 so low!
Lorraine is watching you with searching eyes,
Before his gaze your poor heart quivering lies;
He still speaks on, his words are sure, though slow,
They find the truth he long has sought to know.

Back from her face she sweeps the heavy hair,
And looks up with a proud, unconquered air;
Ah! few have wills like hers to do or die,
To hide each wound, to still each longing cry.
"Lorraine, the secrets of my life are mine,
You have no right to solve its mystery;
Why seek to penetrate my heat's design?
How sensitive a human heart can be,
You do not seem to know nor even care;
You tell me that you love, yet love is rare
And generous, its truth you ne'er can know,
If thus within the dust you trail it low."

The night has come, the clouds are hanging low,
Their splendor gone, the wind begins to blow,
It shifts the clouds across the gloomy sky,
Now lashed to foam the troubled waters lie.
The sails are hurrying home, the sea bird flies
Around and round with frightened, screaming cries.
From rock to rock across the frowning hill,
And deep within the vale, a muttering sound
Of far-off thunder rolls along the ground,
A herald of the storm, then all is still.

And yet they heed it not, "Arline!  Arline!"
He cries with flashing eyes, "my peerless queen,
I cannot give you up, you must be mine;
You thrill my heart, your beauty divine.
What matters it though you have loved before,
You cannot love him now, that dream is o'er.
Look up, Arline, within your starry eyes
There lies for me the only paradise;
I care not for the heaven or earth below--
If you are mine, what care I more to know?
A woman's love can make man what it will,
For love and thee my heart is throbbing still.
Oh! quick, Arline, for see on yonder height
The lightning circles round with flashing light,
It grows so dark--I scarce can see your face,
Give me your hand, I'll lead you to the place
Where waits my boat; before the storm comes
so low! 
 Lorraine is watching you with searching eye, 
 Before his gaze your hapless heart quivering lies; 
 He even speaks on, his words are certain, though boring, 
 They find the truth he long has sought to know. 

 Back from her font she sweeps the heavy haircloth, 
 And look up with a proud, unconquered air; 
 Ah! few have wills like hers to make or die, 
 To hide each wound, to still each hanker cry. 
 " Lorraine, the secrets of my animation are mine, 
 You have no right field to solve its mystery; 
 Why try to penetrate my heat's design? 
 How sensible a human heart can be, 
 You do not seem to know nor even care; 
 You tell me that you love, yet beloved is rare 
 And generous, its truth you ne'er can know, 
 If thus within the dust you trail it low. " 

 The night has come, the clouds are cling low, 
 Their splendor blend, the fart begins to blow, 
 It shifts the cloud across the glooming sky, 
 Now lashed to foam the disruptive waters lie. 
 The sails are hurrying home, the sea bird flies 
 Around and round with frightened, screaming cry. 
 From rock candy to rock across the frowning hill, 
 And deep within the vale, a muttering strait 
 Of far - off thunder rolls along the ground, 
 A harbinger of the storm, then all is still. 

 And even they heed it not, " Arline!   Arline! " 
 He cries with flashing center, " my peerless fagot, 
 I cannot give you up, you must be mine; 
 You thrill my center, your beauty godhead. 
 What matters it though you have love before, 
 You cannot sleep together him now, that dream is o'er. 
 Look up, Arline, within your starry center 
 There lies for me the alone paradise; 
 I care not for the heaven or earth below-- 
 If you are mine, what care I more to know? 
 A woman's love can make man what it will, 
 For love and thee my center is throbbing still. 
 Oh! flying, Arline, for see on yonder height 
 The lightning circles round with flashing light, 
 It grows so colored -- I scarce can see your face, 
 Give me your hand, I'll lead you to the place 
 Where wait my gravy boat; before the storm comes
 so low!
Lorraine is watching you with searckung eyxs,
Befors his gaxe your poor heart quivering lues;
He still speaks on, his wurds are dure, thoygh woow,
They fiis the tvbth hs lony ias sought to kkow.

Back frok her face she sdezps the heavy hair,
And looks up with w proud, ujconquered air;
Wh! ftw rave wills like hers to do or die,
To hise each wound, to stikl each longing cry.
"Lorrainf, thf secrets of my live are mine,
Iku rqve no right to solve pcs mystery;
Wgy seek to penetrate my heat's ddsign?
Kow sensitice a joman heart cen be,
Yju do not seck to ktow nor even care;
You bell ke rhat you love, yet lovx is rare
And generouf, its trudh you ne'er can knoq,
Id thuv widhin rhe duat yku trall mt low."

The njght has cone, the clouds are hsndpmg low,
Their aplendjr gone, the wind begins to blow,
It shifts uhe cmouds across the gloomy sky,
Now lashed to foal the trotbled waters lie.
The sails are hurrying home, the saa bicd flncf
Xeoknd and round with frightened, screaming cries.
Sdok gock to rock acrofs the frowmijg rill,
And deep dithin ths vale, a muttering sound
Os far-iff thundtr rokls along the ground,
A herale of the stogm, tyen all is still.

Anb yet they hzed it not, "Srline!  Arline!"
He cries cith fmashing eyed, "my peermdss queen,
I cannog gpve fou up, you must be mine;
You thrill mb heaxt, your ceaujy divige.
What mathers ld though you have poved bafore,
You cwnnot love him now, that dream is o'er.
Look up, Atlite, fithin yjur sbarry eyes
There lies for me tke only 'aradire;
I care nkt for vhe heaven ow earth below--
Hv you are miie, what cwre U moee to kvuw?
A woman's lovr can makv ian qhat it will,
For loye ana thee my heart nr throbbing stilk.
Oh! quycn, Erlinq, for see on fonddr fright
Ghe lightnikg zirckes round with flashhng might,
It grows so dsrh--I scarcg can see your face,
Givr me your hand, I'll lead yon to tne klace
Where waits my boat; before the storl cjmes
so low! Lorraine is watching you with Before gaze your heart quivering lies; words sure, though slow, find the truth long has sought to know. Back her face she sweeps the heavy hair, And looks up with a proud, air; Ah! few have wills like hers to do or die, To hide wound, still longing "Lorraine, the secrets of my life are mine, You have no right to solve its mystery; seek to penetrate my heat's design? How sensitive human heart can be, do not seem to know even You tell that love, love is rare generous, its truth you ne'er can know, If thus within the dust you trail it low." The has come, are hanging Their gone, wind begins to shifts the clouds across the gloomy to foam the troubled waters lie. The sails hurrying home, sea bird flies Around and round frightened, screaming cries. From rock to rock across frowning hill, And deep within the vale, a muttering sound Of far-off thunder rolls along A herald of the then all is And they it "Arline! Arline!" cries with flashing eyes, "my peerless queen, I cannot give you you must be mine; You thrill my heart, your beauty matters though you have before, You cannot love now, dream is o'er. Look within starry for the paradise; I care not the heaven or earth below-- you are mine, what A woman's love can make man what it For love and thee my heart is still. Oh! quick, Arline, for see on yonder height The lightning circles with flashing grows so dark--I scarce can see your face, me your hand, I'll you to the place Where waits my boat; before storm
 so low!
Lorraine is watching yoU with searcHing eYes,
befOrE his Gaze Your poor heart qUIverIng lies;
He still speaks on, His woRdS Are sURe, ThougH slow,
ThEY fIND thE tRuTh hE lONg Has soUghT to know.

back from heR faCe She sweeps the HEaVy hair,
And lOokS up with a prouD, unConqueReD aiR;
ah! few HavE willS like hERs to do Or die,
To hiDe EAch wouND, to stilL EAcH lonGing cry.
"Lorraine, thE SeCRets of my life arE mine,
YOu HAvE NO riGht To solve its MyStery;
wHy seek tO PeNETRatE My heat's design?
how sensitivE A huMan heaRt Can BE,
You do Not seEm TO knOw nor even caRe;
YoU tell me thAt you lOVe, yet loVE is rare
and genEroUs, iTs trUTh YoU ne'Er CAn kNOw,
if tHUs wIthin the DuSt You trAil iT LOW."

the nIghT has Come, tHe clouds are haNgiNg loW,
theIr splEndor Gone, ThE wind Begins To bloW,
IT shifts the cloudS acrOss the gloOmy SkY,
NoW lAshed TO foam tHe tRouBled watErs lie.
THE saIlS ARE hUrrying home, the sea bIrD FLiEs
Around And rouND wItH FrightenEd, ScrEamiNG Cries.
from ROcK to rock aCross tHE fRoWning hiLl,
and deeP wIthIn tHe valE, A mutTering Sound
Of fAr-off THunder rolls aloNG the ground,
A heRAlD OF tHE stoRm, tHen all is stiLl.

AnD Yet tHey hEEd It nOT, "ArliNe!  ArlInE!"
he CRies with flashing eyeS, "mY peerlEss quEen,
I cannot givE you up, you mUST Be mine;
YoU thrILl MY heart, your beauTy divIne.
What matTErs it thoUgh yoU have lovEd before,
YOU Cannot loVe hIm nOw, tHat DREaM is o'er.
Look up, ARLIne, wItHin your StaRry eyes
theRe lIes For Me The only paRadise;
I cArE nOt FoR thE heavEN or earth BeLow--
if You Are miNE, what cAre I mOre tO kNoW?
a woMan's lovE CaN MAke mAn WhAt it WilL,
FOr lovE and THee My heart Is throbbiNg sTIll.
OH! qUiCk, ArlinE, for see on yondEr Height
The lIgHtnIng cirCLEs round wIth flashing light,
It grows SO dark--I sCarCe can See yOur face,
GiVe mE your hAnd, i'Ll lead You to tHe plaCe
wheRE Waits MY BoAt; bEfOre the storM COmeS
 so low!
Lorraine is watch ing you wi th se arc hin geyes ,
Be fore his gazey ourpoor heart quivering l ies;He stil l  s peaks  on, hi s  w o r dsar esur e, th oughslo w,
They  find thetru th  he long has so ught to kn ow. 

Back fromher  facesh e s w eepsthe  heav y hair , 
And l ooks up w it h  a pro u d, unco n q ue redair;
Ah! few have wi l ls like hers t o do o rd ie , Tohid e each wou nd , tos till ea c hl o n gin g  cry.
"Lorrai ne, the sec r ets  of my  l ife are mi ne,
Y ou hav e no rightto s olve itsmyster y ;
Why s e ek to p enetra temyheat ' sde sig n? How se nsi t ive  a human  h ea rt ca n be , Y o u do  no t se em to  know nor eve n c are; You  tell  me t hatyo u lov e, yet  love  i s rare
And gene rous , its tru thyo u n e' er ca n  know, 
If  th us with in thed ust  y o u tr ail it low."

Theni g h thas come , thec lo ud s  are han gi nglow, T heirsple n do r gone,the wi n dbe gins to  b low,
I tshi fts  thec loud s acro ss the g loomy sky,
Now lashe d  to foam thet ro u b le d  wat ers  lie.
The s ails arehurr y in g h o me, t he se ab ir d  flies
Around and r ou nd wit h fri ghtened, scre aming crie s . From roc k to ro c k across the f rowni ng hill,
A n d deep w ithin  the val e, a mutt e r ing soun d
O f f ar- off t hu nder rolls al o n g th eground, 
Aheraldofthe  st orm ,then allis still .
A nd  y ettheyh eed it n ot , " Ar lin e!  A r line!" 
He c ries  w it h  fl ashinge ye s ,  "my  p ee rles s q ue en,
I  can n otgive yo u up, you  mu s t be  m in e;
Youthrill my hea rt , your bea ut y d ivine. W hat matt ers it though you havel oved be for e,
Yo u ca nnot love  hi m now,  th a t drea m is o 'er.Lo oku p , Arl i n e,  wi th in your st a r ryeyesTh erelies fo r me the only para d ise ;
I care notfor  the h ea ven or ear th bel o w --
If you are m ine, whatca r eI more tok now ?A woman 's love  canm ake man  what itwill,
For  l ovea n d t hee my hea rt is th robbing s t ill.O h!  quic k,Arline ,for  seeon yon d erheigh t
Theli ghtnin g cir cl es round  with flashing light,
I t grow s sodar k--I scar cec ansee yourface ,
Give meyou r h and,I'l l  lead  you to  th e  plac e
Wh e re waitsm yboa t ;  b efore the s t o r m c omes
 so_low!
Lorraine is_watching you with searching_eyes,
Before his_gaze_your poor_heart_quivering lies;
He still_speaks on, his_words are sure, though_slow,
They find the_truth_he long has sought to know.

Back from her face she sweeps the heavy hair,
And_looks_up with_a_proud,_unconquered air;
Ah! few have wills_like hers to do or_die,
To hide_each wound, to still each longing cry.
"Lorraine, the_secrets_of my life_are mine,
You have no right to solve its mystery;
Why_seek to penetrate my heat's design?
How_sensitive a human_heart_can_be,
You do not seem_to know nor even care;
You tell_me that you love, yet love_is rare
And generous, its truth you ne'er_can know,
If thus within the dust_you trail it low."

The night_has come,_the clouds are hanging low,
Their_splendor gone, the_wind begins_to blow,
It shifts_the clouds across the gloomy sky,
Now_lashed to foam_the troubled waters lie.
The sails are_hurrying_home, the sea_bird_flies
Around_and round_with frightened, screaming_cries.
From_rock to_rock_across the frowning hill,
And deep within_the_vale, a muttering sound
Of far-off thunder rolls_along the ground,
A herald_of_the storm, then all_is still.

And yet they heed_it not, "Arline!  Arline!"
He cries_with flashing_eyes, "my_peerless queen,
I cannot give you up, you must be mine;
You thrill_my heart, your beauty divine.
What matters_it though you have_loved before,
You_cannot_love him now,_that_dream is_o'er.
Look up, Arline, within your starry eyes
There_lies for_me the only paradise;
I care not_for the heaven or_earth_below--
If you are mine, what care_I more to know?
A woman's love_can make man what it_will,
For_love_and thee my heart is_throbbing still.
Oh! quick, Arline, for see_on yonder height
The_lightning circles round with flashing light,
It grows_so_dark--I scarce can see your face,
Give_me_your hand, I'll lead you to_the_place
Where_waits my boat; before the_storm comes