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Sonnets from the
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love Martin? 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 everday's
Most quiet needs, by sun and pink nightlight.
I love him freely, as men strive for Might.
I love him purely, as the Indians loved Maize.
I love him with the passion put to use
In my old briefs, 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.