Dylan and Ivy (Sonnet 43)

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 every day'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 love thee better after death.

Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Photos by Guj Tungpalan