Can it be right to give what i can give?
To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears
As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years.
Re-sighing on my lips renunciative
Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live
For all thy adjurations? O my fears,
That this can scarce be right! We are not peers,
So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,
That givers of such gifts as mine are , must
Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas!
I will not soil thy purple with my dust,
Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice -glass,
Nor give thee any love--which were unjust,
Beloved, I only love thee! let it pass.
Yet, love,mere love, is beautiful indeed
And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:
And love is fire. And when I say at need,
I love thee...mark!....I love thee...in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There's nothing low
In love, when love the lowest; meanest creatures
Who loves God, God accepts while loving so,
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature
If thou must love me,let it be for naught
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
"I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or changed for thee--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry--
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou must love on, through lov's eternity.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
No 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 the Passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood 's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lsoe
With my lost saints--I love the with the breath,
Smiles, tears,all of my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
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