by Effie Moore Salem

Created on: September 13, 2008   Last Updated: September 30, 2008

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways" By Elizabeth Barrett Browning are poetic words that have sustained lovers ever since she wrote these words for her husband Robert Browning. He called her his Little Portuguese and when he had these poems published he called the collection, "Sonnets from the Portuguese":

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways? This woman in love is trying to pay tribute to her husband for some especially fine emotion he has awakened in her. Maybe he has been especially kind and considerate and she, ever the poet, knows the only way she can deal with deep felt emotions is poetically. So she, with pencil and paper in hand and deeply furrowed brows and sweaty palms, commences counting the ways.

This first line could have come off badly and would later become an embarrassment to the both of them with its almost sickening sentimentality, but its sincere appeal to all lovers of all time, rescued it from this fate. They deemed it special and therefore it takes its place among one of the most beloved love poems.

"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. . ." In other words she is so much in love she has no way of knowing how much. He is her everything and her love for him is immeasurable. This is no ordinary love affair and it goes beyond mere physical attraction. In this love she loses herself and her reasoning and all that she is and being of an otherworldly nature naturally, she elevates love to its original capacity to be all that her angels and saints - and God - allowed for her.

"I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. . ." Then having thought through her heavenly musings she came somewhat to earth and compared her love to the daily humdrum of living. She knew that the act of simply living brought with it duties and cares and problems and her love was big enough to encompass these. This was no clinging vine of a wife who wanted every minute of his time: she loved him enough to let him be himself.

"I love thee freely, as men strive for right." With these words this sonnet further advances her love for him. She fully understands his circumstances and she is aligned with his cause of justice. She believes in him and his reasons for being on this earth and she wants to truly be a helpmate and not a hindrance. Even, this line stipulates, if I fail to measure up to your ideals, I will not fail to love you because

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