sonnet 43

while taking a break from studying at my second home, the library, i perused through the non-fiction aisle and i came across this old, battered book titled "365 love poems." i was never really a huge fan of poems, mainly because my brain couldn't seem to figure out the hidden meanings behind these complex but cleverly written compositions. but i figured that it wouldn't be too bad to read these poems since i already knew what they were about -- love! as i flipped through the yellowish pages with its distinctive musty smell hitting my senses, this one particular poem impressed me immensely. i remember reading this poem in my english class back in my good ole' high school days. but back then, i could care less about my english class (and love) so i didn't put too much effort into the readings (english was never a strong subject for me, can't you tell? i don't even bother to capitalize letters when i have to, haha).

anyway, reading this poem again, but with a more open-minded and mature outlook on love and literary pieces, i was quite dazed. i've fallen in love with this poem and so i googled it to get a better insight on it. this one particular website gave me this analysis, which made me fall in love with the poem even more: "'Sonnet 43' expresses the poet's intense love for her husband-to-be, Robert Browning. So intense is her love for him, she says, that it rises to the spiritual level (lines 3&4). She loves him freely, without coercion; she loves him purely, without expectation of personal gain. She even loves him with an intensity of the suffering (passion: line 9) resembling that of Christ on the cross, and she loves him in the way that she loved saints as a child. Moreover, she expects to continue to love him after death."

mm~ what a beautiful poem written so eloquently and so sweetly about the most profound and passionate emotion in the world. love :)

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 but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1850)