How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?
A hope, to sing by gladly? or a fine
Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse?
A shade, in which to sing — of palm or pine?
A grave, on which to rest from singing? Choose.

Our Balzac should be flattered beyond measure by my thinking of him at all. Which I did, but of you more.

A cheerful genius suits the times, / And all true poets laugh unquenchably / Like Shakespeare and the gods.