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THE  NOBLE  STRANGER.

                                                       f a n n y 's  l e t t e r .
                                        I   SA W   him,  L  ucv,  only  once;
                                             ’Twas  down  the lighted  hall;

                                          He  moved  to  music  gracefully,
                                            A  stranger  to  ua  all—
                                          A   stranger with  a pale,  wliite brow,
                                            And  dark  and  meaning eye.
                                          Which  flashed  like  lightning  on  my  own
                                            Whene'er  I  passed  him  by.

                                          Those -soul-lit  eves,  they  haunt  inc  still;
                                            So  passionately  deep !
                                          Like  those which  sometimes  beam  on  us
                                            In  visions  of our  sleep.
                                          S cj a ad,  as  if some  shadowy  grief
                                             Had  o'er  his  spirit  gone,
                                          Yet brightening  whene’er  it  caught
                                            The  answer  of my  own,


                                          I  knew  him  not, and yet  where'er
                                             I  turned  me  from  the  dance
                                          I  saw those  dark  eyes follow  me­
                                             lt  could  not  be  by  chance,
                                          1  knew him  not,  and  yet Ids  torica
                                             Were  breathed  upon  ray  ear
                                          So  sweetly  low  and  musical,
                                             I  could  not  choose  but  hear.

                                          lie  spoke of disappointed  hopes;
                                             Of dreams  which  faded  soon ;
                                          The  dew-drops  of life's joyous  mt>rr%
                                             Which  vanished  ere  its  noon.
                                          And  then,  dear  Lucy,  how  he  sighed  ■
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