  Like shy arbutus’ bloom, Half hidden, half revealed, Her heart for love makes sweetest room,— Disclosed, and yet concealed. Ah! it was ever so,— Disclosed, and yet concealed: As to her eyes her breasts of snow, Half hidden, half revealed! And darkly truth is known,— Half hidden, half revealed; And dimly, still, Christ’s dear face shown,— Disclosed, and yet concealed. Will it be ever so,— Disclosed, and yet concealed? All that we most desire to know, Half hidden, half revealed?
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