Not by one measure mayst thou mete our love; <br />For how should I be loved as I love thee?— <br />I, graceless, joyless, lacking absolutely <br />All gifts that with thy queenship best behove;— <br />Thou, throned in every heart's elect alcove, <br />And crowned with garlands culled from every tree, <br />Which for no head but thine, by Love's decree, <br />All beauties and all mysteries interwove. <br />But here thine eyes and lips yield soft rebuke:— <br />“Then only” (say'st thou) “could I love thee less, <br />When thou couldst doubt my love's equality.” <br />Peace, sweet! If not to sum but worth we look,— <br />Thy heart's transcendence, not my heart's excess,— <br />Then more a thousandfold thou lov'st than I.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxii-equal-troth/