"Unless you can muse in a crowd all day On the absent face that fixed you; Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbehoving; Unless you can die when the dream is past — Oh, never call it loving!"

Source: Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1992). “Sonnets from the Portuguese and Other Poems”, p.23, Courier Corporation