How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love you as I love the wind that blows
My ears and combs them, as I love to doze,
And as I hate the fleas that burrow and graze
And roam my belly hairs until they craze
Me. But soft, a song of love I would compose,
Not – damn these fleas! – a rant against my foes,
So to my love let me return my gaze:
I love you as I I love the sirloin scrap
Fallen beneath the table, love you as do
I Love the bowl from which I grateful lap.
If you must slather me with flea shampoo,
My love, I even then won’t give a rap,
But lap your face to show my love is true.
How Do I Love You? by Zigmund Barrett Browning
