L’INCONNUE.

Many a beaming brow I’ve known, And many a dazzling eye, And I’ve listened to many a melting tone In magic fleeting by; And mine was never a heart of stone, And yet my heart hath given to none The tribute of a sigh; For Fancy’s wild and witching mirth Was dearer than aught I found on earth, And the fairest forms I ever knew Were far less fair than—L’Inconnue! Many an eye that once was bright Is dark to-day in gloom; Many a voice that once was light Is silent in the tomb; Many a flower that once was dight In beauty’s most entrancing might Hath faded in its bloom; But she is still as fair and gay As if she had sprung to life to-day; A ceaseless tone and a deathless hue Wild Fancy hath given to—L’Inconnue Many an eye of piercing jet Hath only gleamed to grieve me; Many a fairy form I’ve met, But none have wept to leave me; When all forsake, and all forget, One pleasant dream shall haunt me yet, One hope shall not deceive me; For oh! when all beside is past, Fancy is found our friend at last; And the faith is firm and the love is true Which are vowed by the lips of—L’Inconnue!