Ludwig van Beethoven
thought to be July 6, 1812 · Bonn · Vienna
MY ANGEL! MY ALL! MY SECOND SELF! Only a few words to-day, written with a pencil (your own). My residence cannot be settled till to-morrow. What a tiresome loss of time! Why this deep grief when necessity compels?--can our love exist without sacrifices, and by refraining from desiring all things?The unsent letter "To the Immortal Beloved" · in place of the original: the English translation by Lady Wallace (1866)
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In the same thread
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
1850 · London, England · Florence, Italy
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
Sonnets from the Portuguese, 43
William Shakespeare
published 1609 · England
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date
Sonnets, 18
W. B. Yeats
1899 · Dublin, Ireland · Sligo
And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
"The Song of Wandering Aengus," in The Wind Among the Reeds
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