I, Starchild
18:12
♥4
And he recalled Tatyana’s pallor,
Her mournful air, her touching valour—
And then he soared, his soul alight
With sinless dreams of sweet delight.
Perhaps an ancient glow of passion
Possessed him for a moment’s sway…
But never would he lead astray
A trusting soul in callous fashion.
  Eugene Onegin, Alexander Pushkin
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