"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach."
"Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer; Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor."
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Source: Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1871). “Poetical Works”, p.146
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