By Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of every day’s Most quiet need, by the sun and candle light, I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old grief’s, and with my childhood’s faith, I love thee with a love I seem to lose With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life – and, if God choose, I shall but love them better after death.