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 candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to useIn my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to loseWith 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.