Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XXVII

When he drives home, at home he also is with his Olga occupied, the volatile leaves of an album 4 assiduously adorns for her: now draws therein agrestic views, a gravestone, the temple of Cypris, or a dove on a lyre 8 (using a pen and, slightly, colors) $ now on the pages of remembrance, beneath the signatures of others, he leaves a tender verse- 12 mute monument of reverie, an instant thought's light trace, still, after many years, the same. i94