Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which when rising up from breast to brow
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost;

This love, even, all my worth to the uttermost,
I should not love withal unless that Thou
Had set me an example, shown me how
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed

And love called love.  And thus I cannot speak
Of love, even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul has snatched up mine, all faint and weak
And placed it by Thee on a golden throne.
And that I love (oh heart, we must be meek),
Is by Thee only, whom I love alone.

                       -Elizabeth Barrett Browning
                        Sonnets from the Portuguese (#12)