to unlock the heart, and let it speak?
are even lovers powerless to reveal
to one another what indeed they feel?
i knew the mass of men conceal'd
their thoughts, for fear that if reveal'd
they would by other men be met
with blank indifference, or with blame reprov'd:
i knew they liv'd and mov'd
trick'd in disguises, alien to the rest
of men, and alien to themselves--and yet
the same heart beats in every human breast.
/matthew arnold, "the buried life" (1852)
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