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Sonnet XLIII

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 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 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.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Grief

I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;

That only men incredulous of despair,

Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air

Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access

Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,

In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare

Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare

Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express

Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death–

Most like a monumental statue set

In everlasting watch and moveless woe

Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.

Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:

If it could weep, it could arise and go.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

from Is Life Worth Living?

IS life worth living? Yes, so long

   As there is wrong to right,

Wail of the weak against the strong,

   Or tyranny to fight;

Long as there lingers gloom to chase,

   Or streaming tear to dry,

One kindred woe, one sorrowing face

   That smiles as we draw nigh;

Long as a tale of anguish swells

   The heart, and lids grow wet,

And at the sound of Christmas bells

   We pardon and forget;

So long as Faith with Freedom reigns,

   And loyal Hope survives,

And gracious Charity remains

   To leaven lowly lives;

While there is one untrodden tract

   For Intellect or Will,

And men are free to think and act

   Life is worth living still . . . .

Alfred Austin