How I love thee
When mere feelings are gone, are not with me
my love still stays with thee
and in every sweet tenderness
and tranquil kiss
I long for thee in my everydayness,
even in the night’s romantic hour I long for thy bliss
and what’s between us comes clear and free
without any inequity,
as just the experience, the lives of you and me
in all of love’s purity
is even there when I bow to pray
asking His blessings on you each day
and I love thee with all that is in me
past life, past death into eternity, as it’s supposed to be.
[Reference: XLIII. “How much I love thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sonnet 43 - How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?
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 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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee? (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 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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Italian | In Romanian
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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love You? (Cavatina)
(after Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
In every day’s longing, in the sheer need
of how life is,
when feelings are totally out of sight,
in each sweet kiss,
in my childish kind of lingering faith,
you bring me bliss
and to the depths of my soul I love you
in everything that is good, noble and true.
[Reference: “How Do I Love Thee? ” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee?
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 with a 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.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee
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 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 with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Love You (Villanelle)
(after Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
as our relationship has come with Godly grace,
I do love you through every day and night,
even when times of joy are far from sight
as you make this earth a heavenly place.
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
while I long to be to you the companion that I might
as the depth of our feelings are sometimes without a trace,
I do love you through every day and night,
while you draw me nearer to the Godly light
and onward daily our lives do constantly race.
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
with gentleness, without any fear and fright
although my childish ways might be commonplace
I do love you through every day and night.
Even if for you I have got struggle and fight
have got to face the most dangerous menace;
I love you with feelings that are true and right,
I do love you through every day and night.
[Reference: 'XLIII' 'How do I love thee? Let me count the ways']
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love Thee
I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee?
how do
i love thee?
i love thee
till i take to
every street
you walked
to get a feel
of you
a self-serving
delusion
i drown
myself in
to get you
close to me
i love thee
till i listen,
read, juggle
in each thing
you told me
me about
to live up
to your
dream
your love
sweeps
through
me like
a tsunami
builds up
a greater me
cured sloth, inertia
i love thee till
i am left
soaked, cold,
on an empty street
but ever strong
- inspired
by your words -
to take on
life challenges
if i could move
the world
i could have moved
it for you
even to the farthest star
i swear
inspired by
How Do I Love Thee?
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 with a 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
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song. To A Russian Air
WAS it for this I dearly loved thee?....
But since at length I know thy heart,
And learn no real passion moved thee,
Go, Henry, go; this hour we part.
But do not think, past love forgetting,
That I thy foe can ever be;
My blighted hopes howe'er regretting,
I still shall pray for bliss to thee.
I still, no wrongs from thee resenting,
Shall wish Love's choicest treasures thine;
Though till life's closing sigh lamenting
The power to bless thee was not mine .
poem by Amelia Opie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How do I parody? after Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How do I love thee?
How Do I Parody?
How true I parody! Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, taste copy paste insight
My mind can reach into your writing quite
Through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
post hosting feed, by sun, electric light.
In vers libres freely, sonnet set to right;
I pastiche purely, rarely spurning praise.
Reparody with passion put to use
through griefs, beliefs, rehearsed, though wanting faith.
I parody love’s theme, who dreams accuse.
Newfangled paints b[l]end colour bending brea[d]th,
Smiles, tears, [p]rune poem’s life! - and, if judge choose,
gold goblets garner, googled after death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
12 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 and 30 September 2009
for previous versions see below robi3_1323_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX
________________
How do I Parody?
How do I parody? Let me count the ways.
I parody in depth, with taste and with insight,
my mind may reach into your writing quite
through APing Ways and Means, through rhyme’s mainstays.
I parody to the level of everyday's
intimate grace, by sun, electric light.
in vers libres freely, sonnet set to right.
I pastiche purely, rarely turn from Praise,
reparody with passion put to use
through your old griefs, beliefs, though wanting faith.
I parody with love I’d never lose,
use paints newfangled, shading E.B.B.ing breath,
still showing your life's smiles, tears, for, should judge choose,
my golden goblet fame lives loved past death.
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 revised 10 June 2008 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
_____________
Parody Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee
[c] Jonathan Robin - 2 February 2007 robi3_1611_brow7_0001 PSX_IXX for previous version see below
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.
Elisabeth Barrett BROWNING 1806_1861
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XXIII
Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?
I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
But . . . so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine
While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead
Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.
Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me !
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
For love, to give up acres and degree,
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee !
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Xxiii
Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?
I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
But . . . so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine
While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead
Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.
Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me !
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
For love, to give up acres and degree,
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee !
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XXIII: Is It Indeed So?
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head?
I marvelled, my Belovèd, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
But...so much to thee? Can I pour your wine
While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead
Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.
Then, love me, Love! Look on me--breathe on me!
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
For love, to give up acres and degree,
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee!
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Await Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
I remember our love-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
And I Forever embrace this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for thee-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dead Rose
O Rose! who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet;
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat,---
Kept seven years in a drawer---thy titles shame thee.
The breeze that used to blow thee
Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away
An odour up the lane to last all day,---
If breathing now,---unsweetened would forego thee.
The sun that used to smite thee,
And mix his glory in thy gorgeous urn,
Till beam appeared to bloom, and flower to burn,---
If shining now,---with not a hue would light thee.
The dew that used to wet thee,
And, white first, grow incarnadined, because
It lay upon thee where the crimson was,---
If dropping now,---would darken where it met thee.
The fly that lit upon thee,
To stretch the tendrils of its tiny feet,
Along thy leaf's pure edges, after heat,---
If lighting now,---would coldly overrun thee.
The bee that once did suck thee,
And build thy perfumed ambers up his hive,
And swoon in thee for joy, till scarce alive,---
If passing now,---would blindly overlook thee.
The heart doth recognise thee,
Alone, alone! The heart doth smell thee sweet,
Doth view thee fair, doth judge thee most complete,---
Though seeing now those changes that disguise thee.
Yes, and the heart doth owe thee
More love, dead rose! than to such roses bold
As Julia wears at dances, smiling cold!---
Lie still upon this heart---which breaks below thee!
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to love you in all of my days (Italian sonnet)
(after Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
I want to love you in all of my days,
live with you a life that is true and right,
find you next to me in each solemn night,
bring to your humanity and beauty praise,
love you in all of my life's simple ways,
see you day by day smiling very bright,
find with you happiness with candlelight
and then by God's infinite kind of grace,
never a moment in your company loose,
in the hopes of life find a childhood faith
that our love will surpass the bonds of death,
that God's kindness in us, be put to use,
that in His great plan He will us both save,
I love you in every word, deed and breath.
[Reference: "How do I love Thee? Let me count the ways" by Elizabeth Barrett
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Awaiting Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
It reminds me of this love of ours-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
Forever embracing this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for you-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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