Madame de Stael
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 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.
(by Elisabeth Barret Browning)
Just a little longer,
Love me: we will pass and part,
Ere this love grow stronger.
I have loved thee, Child! too well,
To do aught but leave thee:
Nay! my lips should never tell
Any tale, to grieve thee.
Little lady of my heart!
Just a little longer,
I may love thee: we will part
Ere my love grow stronger.
Soon thou leavest fairy-land;
Darker grow thy tresses:
Soon no more of hand-in-hand;
Soon no more caresses!
Little lady of my heart!
Just a little longer,
Be a child: then we will part,
Ere this love grow stronger.
(by Ernest Dowson)
