Page:Poems, Alexander Pushkin, 1888.djvu/107

Rh Entire is lighted with diamond splendor

Thy chamber &hellip; with merry crackle

The wood is crackling in the oven.

To meditation invites the sofa.

But know you? In the sleigh not order why

The brownish mare to harness?

Over the morning snow we gliding

Trust we shall, my friend, ourselves

To the speed of impatient steed;

Visit we shall the fields forsaken,

The woods, dense but recently,

And the banks so dear to me.