Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

250
Chapter Six

???? Stirless he lay, and strange was his brow's languid peace.

Under the breast he had been shot clean through; 4 steaming, the blood flowed from the wound. One moment earlier in this heart inspiration, enmity, hope, and love had throbbed, 8 life effervesced, blood burned; now, as in a deserted house, all in it is both still and dark, it has become forever silent. 12 The window boards are shut. The panes with are whitened over. The chatelaine is gone, [chalk But where, God wot. All trace is lost.