Page:The Clergyman's Wife.djvu/305

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,
Half falling on the hair. O, beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness did precede.
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state! Since when, indeed,
I have been proud, and said—'My love, my own!'"

She tries to measure that which is measureless—her love for him.

"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!"

After that inspired outburst of woman's perfect love, what word can be added?