Sunday, April 07, 2013

Love, meet hearts.

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 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 with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a 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.

(Elizabeth Barret Browning, Sonnet 43) 


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