by

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and the breadth and the 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 everyday's
Most quiet need, by 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 griefs, and in my childhood's faith.
I love thee with the love I seemed 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 thee better after death


Sonnet 43, Elizabeth Barret Browning



beauty of words could kill, true saying.