Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
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. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
Since when was genius found respectable?
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
