How do I love him? Let me count the ways.
I love him 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 him to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love him freely, as men strive for Right;
I love him purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love him with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love him with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love him with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love him better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
