Читать книгу Евгений Онегин / Eugene Onegin - Александр Сергеевич Пушкин, Александр Пушкин, Pushkin Aleksandr - Страница 57

The village wherein yawned Eugene

Was a delightful little spot,

There friends of pure delight had been

Grateful to Heaven for their lot.

The lonely mansion-house to screen

From gales a hill behind was seen;

Before it ran a stream. Behold!

Afar, where clothed in green and gold

Meadows and cornfields are displayed,

Villages in the distance show

And herds of oxen wandering low;

Whilst nearer, sunk in deeper shade,

A thick immense neglected grove

Extended – haunt which Dryads love.