She, seriously.

Who the loser, who the winner, If the Fancy fail as preacher?— None who loved was yet beginner Though another's love-beseecher; Love's revealment 's of the inner Life and deity, the teacher.

Who may falsify the feeling To the lover who is loser? Has she felt:—the mere revealing Of the passion 's his accuser; She conceals it; the concealing Is her own love's self-abuser.

One hath said, no flower knoweth Of the fragrance it revealeth; Song, its soul that overfloweth, Never nightingale's heart feeleth— Such the love the spirit groweth, Love unconscious if it healeth.