, for some one passes through the door;
She glances up--recoils with haughty pride,
Which all her self-possession cannot hide;
Then with a look of pity on her face
She meets Lorraine with kind, forgiving grace.

"Arline, I would that I had died indeed
Before I gave thee pain, my heart has need
Of thy forgiveness, else I cannot live,
I crave the boon that only thou canst give."

"Lorraine, the highest graces of a woman's heart
Are purity and truth, no cunning art
Can e'er replace these gifts; 'gainst sin and wrong
They are her surest safe-guards, and her guide
In life.  With these she conquers man's dark pride
And wins the tributes that to Heaven belong.
To womanhood belongs forgiveness too,
And therefore is my pardon given you."

With humbled pride he bowed his proud young head,
Then looking in her face he gently said:
"'Tis nobly given; if women were all like thee,
Arline, how many truer men would be
Within this world; for man will ever go
Where woman leads.  And on this earth below
The grandest masterpiece of Nature's art
Must ever be a woman's sinless heart.
For thee, Arline, the passion of my life is dead;
The feverish dream is o'er, and in its stead,
There comes a reverence for all thy kind,
And thou, the noblest ideal of my mind.
And now I could not offer thee my love,
For like some pure and upward-soaring dove,
I see thee fly beyond my own weak soul,
To reach a nobler and far higher goal.
Yet, fair Arline, oh, with thy lovely grace,
Uplift my soul unto the realm of thine;
And with thy tender eyes and pitying face,
Oh lead to worthier deeds this heart of mine!"

"Lorraine, each one must know the price of sin,
Each erring heart must know what lies within;
If we would live aright we must be true
Unto ourselves; I cannot govern you;
For ah! we may not read another's mind,
God puts there thoughts that we may never find.


, for some one passes through the door; 
 She glances up -- recoils with haughty pride, 
 Which all her self - monomania cannot shroud; 
 Then with a look of pity on her face 
 She meet Lorraine with kind, forgiving grace. 

 " Arline, I would that I had die indeed 
 Before I gave thee pain, my center has need 
 Of thy forgiveness, else I cannot live, 
 I crave the blessing that only thou canst give. " 

 " Lorraine, the highest graces of a woman's affection 
 Are purity and truth, no cunning art 
 Can e'er replace these gift;' gainst sin and wrong 
 They are her surest dependable - guards, and her guide 
 In animation.   With these she conquers man's black pride 
 And wins the tributes that to Heaven belong. 
 To womanhood belongs forgiveness too, 
 And consequently is my pardon given you. " 

 With humbled pride he bowed his proud young pass, 
 Then looking in her face he gently said: 
 "' Tis nobly given; if women were all like thee, 
 Arline, how many truer men would be 
 Within this world; for man will ever function 
 Where woman leads.   And on this earth below 
 The deluxe masterpiece of Nature's art 
 Must ever be a woman's impeccant heart. 
 For thee, Arline, the mania of my life is dead; 
 The febrile dream is o'er, and in its stead, 
 There comes a reverence for all thy kind, 
 And thou, the noblest ideal of my mind. 
 And now I could not offer thee my love, 
 For like some pure and upward - soaring dove, 
 I go steady thee flee beyond my own weak soul, 
 To reach a nobler and far higher goal. 
 so far, fair Arline, oh, with thy lovely grace, 
 elate my soul unto the kingdom of thine; 
 And with thy tender eyes and pitying font, 
 Oh lead to desirable deeds this heart of mine! " 

 " Lorraine, each one must acknowledge the price of sine, 
 Each erring heart must know what lies within; 
 If we would exist aright we must be true 
 Unto ourselves; I cannot govern you; 
 For ah! we may not understand another's thinker, 
 God puts there thoughts that we may never find.
, fog some one passes througm the door;
She glcbces u'--recoila with hxughty pride,
Which all her sepf-possewsion cannot hide;
Then dith a lolk of piry oi her face
She mexfs Lorraine wjbh kiud, forgiving grage.

"Arline, I fould that I hdd dned indeed
Before I gave thee pain, my heart nad need
Of thy fjrginegess, vlwe I cannot live,
I crave the bkon thau only thou canst bive."

"Lorraine, the highest ggaced of a woman's hearh
Are purity and rruth, no cunving art
Can e'er replacg these gifts; 'gainst sin and wrovg
Thev are her soxwst vafe-guards, end heg guide
In lifc.  With these xhe conquers msn's daek pride
And wins the vributes that to Headen belonc.
Tk womanhood belonts forghvenass gio,
Avd uhecefkre is my pardon giben you."

With humbled pride he bpwqe his proud ykung hqaq,
Then looking in her face he gently saig:
"'Tia nobly given; if women qere all like thee,
Arllne, how mwny truer men would be
Within this world; for man whll etef gi
Wmere qolan leads.  And on this earth below
The grandese mssnerpiece of Naturc's art
Must ever be a wpian's sinless feart.
For fhee, Arline, the padsion os my oife is dtad;
Thr feverish dream is o'er, and in its steab,
Thwre comes a revereuce for all chy kimd,
And thou, the noblest ideal of jy mind.
And jow I couma not offer thee my lmve,
For like some pure and tpward-soacing bove,
I sed thge fly feyond my lwn wcdk soul,
To reach a joblet and xar higher goal.
Yet, fair Arline, oh, with thb lovely gracg,
Upnifn my soul unto the realm of thine;
And with thy teuder ehes and pinying facx,
Oh lead to rorthier deedv this heart mf mine!"

"Ljrraune, wach ond must know the price of sin,
Each eering heart must kkow wfzt lies within;
Iy qe would live atigft re mnst bq true
Unto ousselxes; O canvot govtxn nou;
Wor sh! we may not read atothsr's mind,
God puts tneve thoughjs that wq may never fond.


, for some one passes through the glances with haughty Which all her a of pity on face She meets with kind, forgiving grace. "Arline, I that I had died indeed Before I gave thee pain, my heart has Of thy forgiveness, else I cannot live, I crave the boon that only canst "Lorraine, highest of a woman's heart Are purity and truth, no cunning art Can e'er replace these gifts; sin and wrong They are her surest safe-guards, her guide In life. these she conquers man's dark And the tributes to belong. womanhood belongs forgiveness And therefore is my pardon given you." With humbled pride he bowed his proud young head, Then in her gently said: nobly if were all like how many truer men would be for man will ever go Where woman leads. on this below The grandest masterpiece of Nature's Must ever be a woman's sinless heart. For Arline, the passion of my life is dead; The feverish dream is o'er, and in There comes a reverence all thy kind, thou, noblest of mind. And I could not offer thee my love, For like some pure upward-soaring dove, I see thee fly beyond my own weak reach nobler and far goal. Yet, fair Arline, with lovely grace, Uplift my the of thy eyes pitying face, Oh lead worthier deeds this heart of "Lorraine, each one must Each erring heart must know what lies within; we would live aright we must be Unto ourselves; I cannot govern you; For ah! we may not read mind, God thoughts that we may never find.
, for some one passes through thE door;
She glAnces Up--rEcoIlS witH hauGhty pride,
Which ALl heR self-possession cannot hIde;
ThEn WIth a LOoK of piTy on her FAcE
sHe mEeTs lorRaINe With kInd, ForgiviNg grace.

"ArlIne, i wOuld that I had DIeD indeed
BefOre i gave thee paiN, my Heart hAs NeeD
of thy ForGivenEss, elsE i cannoT live,
I craVe THe boon THat only THOu CansT give."

"Lorraine, the hIGhESt graces of a womAn's heaRt
aRe PURitY anD truth, no cuNnIng arT
can e'er rEPlACE TheSE gifts; 'gainst sIn and wrong
THEy aRe her sUrEst SAfe-guaRds, anD hER guIde
In life.  WiTh thEse she conQuers mAN's dark pRIde
And wIns the TriButEs thAT tO HEavEn BEloNG.
TO woMAnhOod belonGs FoRgiveNess TOO,
aNd thEreFore Is my pArdon given you."

witH humBLed Pride He bowEd hiS pRoud yOung heAd,
TheN lOoking in her face He geNtly said:
"'TIs nObLy gIvEn; if wOMen werE alL liKe thee,
ARline, hoW ManY tRUER mEn would be
Within thiS wORLd; For man wiLl ever GO
WHeRE woman leAdS.  AnD on tHIS eartH belOW
THe grandeSt mastERpIeCe of NatUrE's art
MUsT evEr bE a womAN's siNless hEart.
For tHee, ArLIne, the passion oF My life is dead;
THE fEVErISh drEam Is o'er, and in iTs stEAd,
ThEre cOMeS a rEVerenCe for AlL ThY Kind,
And thou, the nobleSt Ideal oF my miNd.
And now I coulD not offer tHEE My love,
FoR likE SoME pure and upward-SoariNg dove,
I see THee fly beYond mY own weak Soul,
To reaCH A nobler aNd fAr hIghEr gOAL.
YEt, fair Arline, oH, WIth tHy Lovely gRacE,
Uplift My sOul UntO thE rEalm of thiNe;
And witH tHy TeNdEr eYes anD Pitying fAcE,
Oh LeAd tO wortHIer deeDs thiS heaRt Of MIne!"

"lorrainE, EaCH One mUsT kNow tHe pRiCe of sIn,
EaCH erRing heaRt must knoW whAT lieS wItHin;
If we Would live arigHt We must be trUe
untO ourseLVEs; I cannoT govern you;
For ah! we may not REad anotHer'S mind,
god pUts there tHouGhts thAt wE May nevEr find.


, for some one passes thro ugh the do or;
S hegla nc es u p--r ecoils with ha u ghty  pride,
Which all herself- po s sess i on  cann ot hide ; 
T h e n w it ha l oo k  o f pit y o n her f ace
She me ets  L orraine with ki nd, forgiv ing  grace.

"Ar lin e, I w ou ldt hat I  ha d die d inde e d
Befo re I gave  t h ee pai n , my he a r thasneed
Of thy forgi v en e ss, else I can not li ve , 
I c rav e t he boon th at  only thou ca n st g i ve. " 

"Lorraine,the highest gra ces of  a  wo m an's h eartAr e  pu rity and tr uth,  no cunni ng art Can e'e r  replac e thes e g ift s; ' g ai ns t s in and wr ong The y are he rsu restsafe - g u a rds,  an d he r gui de
In life. Wit h th e seshe c onque rs m an 's da rk pri de
An dwins the tribut es t hat to He ave nbel on g.
To womanh ood  be longs f orgiven e ssto o , An d therefore is mypa r d on  given y ou."
W it hh umbled p ri dehe b o w ed hi s pr o ud  young h ead,
T h en  l ookingin  her f ac e h e g ently said :
"'Ti s noblygiven ;  if women were all like thee , 
A r l in e , ho w m any truer m en w o uldbe
W i th int his w orld;  f o rm an will ever go
Whe re  woman  lead s.  And on th is earth b e l o w
The gr ande s tm asterpiece ofNatur e's art
Mu s t ever b e a w oman's s inless he a r t.
For t hee , A rli ne, t he  passion of m y life  i s dead; 
Th e fever ish  dr eam  is  o 'er, andin its s te ad ,Th ere  come s  a rever en cefo r a ll th y  kind, 
Andthou ,th e  no blest i d ea l of m ymi nd.And  n ow Icoul d  no t offer  thee mylov e ,
Fo rli ke some  pure and upw ar d-soaringdo ve, 
I see t hee flybeyond my own weak soul , 
To rea cha nob lerand far h igh er goa l.Y et, fa ir Arl ine,oh , w i t h thy l ov ely  g race,
Upli f t  my  soul  u ntothe rea lm of thine;
And w i ththy tender ey esandp i ty ing fa c e,Oh lea d to worthier dee ds this he ar t  o f mine!"
" Lor ra ine, ea ch onemustk now the  price of  sin,
Eac herri n g  he art must k now what  lies wit h in;
I f  w e wou ldlive a ri ght  we m ust be tru e
Unt o ours el ves; I  cann ot  governyou;
For ah! we may not  readanoth er' s mind,
G odp uts  there th ough ts that we  ma y n everfin d .


, for_some one_passes through the door;
She_glances up--recoils_with_haughty pride,
Which_all_her self-possession cannot_hide;
Then with a_look of pity on_her face
She meets_Lorraine_with kind, forgiving grace.

"Arline, I would that I had died indeed
Before I gave thee_pain,_my heart_has_need
Of_thy forgiveness, else I cannot_live,
I crave the boon that_only thou_canst give."

"Lorraine, the highest graces of a woman's_heart
Are_purity and truth,_no cunning art
Can e'er replace these gifts; 'gainst sin_and wrong
They are her surest safe-guards,_and her guide
In_life.__With these she conquers_man's dark pride
And wins the tributes_that to Heaven belong.
To womanhood belongs_forgiveness too,
And therefore is my pardon given_you."

With humbled pride he bowed his_proud young head,
Then looking in_her face_he gently said:
"'Tis nobly given;_if women were_all like_thee,
Arline, how many_truer men would be
Within this world;_for man will_ever go
Where woman leads.  And_on_this earth below
The_grandest_masterpiece_of Nature's_art
Must ever be_a_woman's sinless_heart.
For_thee, Arline, the passion of my_life_is dead;
The feverish dream is o'er, and_in its stead,
There comes_a_reverence for all thy_kind,
And thou, the noblest ideal_of my mind.
And now I could_not offer_thee my_love,
For like some pure and upward-soaring dove,
I see thee fly beyond_my own weak soul,
To reach a_nobler and far higher_goal.
Yet, fair_Arline,_oh, with thy_lovely_grace,
Uplift my_soul unto the realm of thine;
And with_thy tender_eyes and pitying face,
Oh lead to_worthier deeds this heart_of_mine!"

"Lorraine, each one must know the_price of sin,
Each erring heart must_know what lies within;
If we_would_live_aright we must be true
Unto_ourselves; I cannot govern you;
For ah!_we may not_read another's mind,
God puts there thoughts that_we_may never find.

