Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

Chapter Two
XX

Ah, he loved as one loves no longer in our years; as only the mad soul of a poet 4 is still condemned to love: always, and everywhere, one reverie, one customary wish, one customary woe! 8 Neither the cooling distance, nor the long years of separation, nor hours given to the Muses, nor foreign beauties, 12 nor noise of merriments, nor studies, had changed in him a soul warmed by a virgin fire.