If I loved thee, thou would need not count the ways – for true love is summed-up never by the days – not sunrise or at setting would thee need count the petting unending; for love is not a schedule, these can be changed and broken – and words on paper by themselves mere token; for even the bible, so lofty a text often loosely spoken. And true love never fails. Not a train of it derails. Constant in its going. Not in God’s dear heaven greater than here in my heart – And love thee I do with every part! With every eternal length and girth of me, body and soul of me, spirit worth of me.