Sonnets from the Portuguese ⅩLⅢ

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 everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

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, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee 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 ⅩLⅢ>, Elizabeth Barrett Browning