Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XXXIV

I have remembrance of another time: in chary fancies now and then

I hold the happy stirrup 4 and feel a small foot in my hand. Again imagination seethes, again that touch has kindled the blood within my withered heart, 8 again the ache, again the love! But 'tis enough extolling haughty ones with my loquacious lyre: they are not worth either the passions i 2 or songs by them inspired; the words and gaze of the said charmers are as deceptive as their little feet.