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.
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o’ the world; oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time!
If thou must love me, let it be for nought except for love's sake only...
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach...
Unless you can muse in a crowd all day
On the absent face that fixed you;
Unless you can love, as the angels may,
With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;
Life, struck sharp on death,
Makes awful lightning.
Since when was genius found respectable?
Man, the two-fold creature, apprehends
The two-fold manner, in and outwardly,
And nothing in the world comes single to him.