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 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 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.
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 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.
~Sonnets From the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning~
