True Love
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.
—Elizabeth B. Browning.
Earth Hallowed By Jesus’ Holiness
“This is the earth He walked on; not alone
That Asian country keeps the sacred stain;
Ah, not alone the far Judean plain,
Mountain and river! Lo, the sun that shone
On him, shines now on us; when the day is gone
The moon of Galilee comes forth again
And lights our path as His; endless chain
Of years and sorrows makes the round world one.
The air we breathe, He breathed—the very air
That took the mould and music of His high
And godlike speech. Since then shall mortal dare
With base thought front the ever-sacred sky—
Soil with foul deed the ground whereon He laid
In holy death His pale, immortal head!”
—Richard Watson Gilder.
Alternate Reading: Nehemiah 4.