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 levels 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 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 chose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
-- Sonnet XLIII, Elizabeth Barrett Browning