Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XLI

Beneath it (as begins to drip spring rain upon the herb of fields) the herdsman, plaiting his pied shoe of bast, 4 sings of the Volga fishermen; and the young townswoman who spends the summer in the country, when headlong on horseback, alone, 8 she scours the fields, before it halts her steed, tightening the leathern rein; and, turning up the gauze veil of her hat, 2 she reads with skimming eyes the plain inscription-and a tear dims her soft eyes.