Two human loves make one divine.
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
And each man stands with his face in the light. Of his own drawn sword, ready to do what a hero can.
Whoso loves, believes in the impossible
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right the music of my nature.