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(Sonnet 43) Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 – 1861

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.