Hate in America or a hatful of hateful
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate 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.
I hate thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I hate thee freely, as men seek for wrong.
I hate thee impurely, as they turn toward praise.
I hate thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I hate thee with a hate I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I hate thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life;seek and, if the Devil choose,
I shall but hate thee better after death.
*Hats off to Elizabeth Barrett Browning