Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XLVI

Let me glance back. Farewell now, coverts where in the backwoods flowed my days, fulfilled with passions and with indolence 4 and with the dreamings of a pensive soul. And you, young inspiration, stir my imagination, the slumber of the heart enliven, 8 into my nook more often fly, let not a poet's soul grow cold, callous, crust-dry, and finally be turned to stone 12 in the World's deadening intoxication in that slough where with you I bathe, dear friends!40