XLIV - Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers
Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers / Plucked in the garden, all the summer through,
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.
Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers / Plucked in the garden, all the summer through,
IF all the gentlest-hearted friends I know / Concentred in one heart their gentleness,
A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne / From year to year until I saw thy face,
If thou must love me, let it be for nought / Except for love's sake only. Do not say