Are you searching for the perfect words to express your love to your husband in a way that feels timeless and unforgettable?
Poetry has a magical way of capturing emotions, turning simple “I love yous” into beautiful verses that speak straight to the heart.
Here are 10 thoughtfully curated poems designed to celebrate the unique bond between husband and wife—each one brimming with love, devotion, and warmth.
Let’s dive right in!
My favorite I love you poem for husbands from wives
#1 “How Do I Love Thee?” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
If there’s one poem that defines eternal love, it’s Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s iconic “How Do I Love Thee?”
This timeless masterpiece captures the depth, purity, and unwavering devotion of love in such a way that it transcends time and touches every heart.
Every line feels like a heartfelt confession, making it the perfect choice for wives seeking to express the immeasurable ways they adore their husbands.
9 more I love you poems for husbands from wives
#2 “Long as I Still” by Louise Labé (Arthur Platt. Translator)
Long as I still can shed tears from mine eyes
My bliss with thee regretting once again,
And while my voice, though in a weaker strain,
Can speak a little, checking sobs and sighs,—
Long as my hand can tune the harmonies
Of my bold lute to sing thy graces fain,
And while my spirit shall content remain,
Thee understanding, nothing else to prize,
So long I do not yet desire to die;
But when I feel mine eyes are growing dry,
Broken my voice, my hand devoid of skill,
My spirit in this its dwelling-place of clay
Able no more to shew I love thee still,
I shall pray Death to blot my clearest day.
#3 “A Song Of Love” by Alice Dunbar-Nelson
Oh, drink thou deep of the purple wine,
And it’s hey for love, for I love you so!
Oh, clasp me close, with your lips on mine,
And it’s hey for love, for I love you so!
The sea lies violet, deep, and wide,
My heart beats high with the rushing tide;
Was it fancy, beloved, the seagulls cried:
“Sing loud for love, for I love him so”?
Oh, little boat for tossing wave,
Sing loud for love, for I love him so!
Oh, y’all pine tree in the shadows grave,
Sing loud for love, for I love him so!
The little waves kiss the gleaming sand,
I laugh in the sun on the joyful land;
Beloved, one clasp of your strong young hand;
The world is fair, for I love you so!
#4 “Love’s Entreaty” by Michelangelo (John Addington Symonds, Translator)
Thou knowest, love, I know that thou dost know
That I am here more near to thee to be,
And knowest that I know thou knowest me:
What means it then that we are sundered so?
If they are true, these hopes that from thee flow,
If it is real, this sweet expectancy,
Break down the wall that stands ’twixt me and thee;
For pain in prison pent hath double woe.
Because in thee I love, O my loved lord,
What thou best lovest, be not therefore stern:
Souls burn for souls, spirits to spirits cry!
I seek the splendour in thy fair face stored;
Yet living man that beauty scarce can learn,
And he who fain would find it, first must die.
#5 “I Loved You First: But Afterwards Your Love” by Christina Rossetti
I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
#6 “Love’s Prayer” by John Milton Hay
If Heaven would hear my prayer,
My dearest wish would be,
Thy sorrows not to share,
But take them all on me;
If Heaven would hear my prayer.
I’d beg with prayers and sighs
That never a tear might flow
From out thy lovely eyes,
If Heaven might grant it so;
Mine be the tears and sighs.
No cloud thy brow should cover,
But smiles each other chase
From lips to eyes all over
Thy sweet and sunny face;
The clouds my heart should cover.
That all thy path be light
Let darkness fall on me;
If all thy days be bright,
Mine black as night could be.
My love would light my night.
For thou art more than life,
And if our fate should set
Life and my love at strife,
How could I then forget
I love thee more than life?
#7 “Why I Love Thee?” by Sadakichi Hartmann
Why I love thee?
Ask why the seawind wanders,
Why the shore is aflush with the tide,
Why the moon through heaven meanders
Like seafaring ships that ride
On a sullen, motionless deep;
Why the seabirds are fluttering the strand
Where the waves sing themselves to sleep
And starshine lives in the curves of the sand!
#8 “Ask Me Why I Love You” by Walter Everette Hawkins
Ask me why I love you, dear,
And I will ask the rose
Why it loves the dews of Spring
At the Winter’s close;
Why the blossoms’ nectared sweets
Loved by questing bee,—
I will gladly answer you,
If they answer me.
Ask me why I love you, dear,
And I will ask the flower
Why it loves the Summer sun,
Or the Summer shower;
I will ask the lover’s heart
Why it loves the moon,
Or the star-besprinkled skies
In a night in June.
Ask me why I love you, dear,
I will ask the vine
Why its tendrils trustingly
Round the oak entwine;
Why you love the mignonette
Better than the rue,—
If you will but answer me,
I will answer you.
Ask me why I love you, dear,
Let the lark reply,
Why his heart is full of song
When the twilight’s nigh;
Why the lover heaves a sigh
When her heart is true;
If you will but answer me,
I will answer you.
#9 “Love’s Arithmetic” by Richard Le Gallienne
You often ask me, love, how much I love you,
Bidding my fancy find
An answer to your mind;
I say: ‘Past count, as there are stars above you.’
You shake your head and say,
‘Many and bright are they,
But that is not enough.’
Again I try:
‘If all the leaves on all the trees
Were counted over,
And all the waves on all the seas,
More times your lover,
Yea! more than twice ten thousand times am I.’
”Tis not enough,’ again you make reply.
‘How many blades of grass,’ one day I said,
‘Are there from here to China? how many bees
Have gathered honey through the centuries?
Tell me how many roses have bloomed red
Since the first rose till this rose in your hair?
How many butterflies are born each year?
How many raindrops are there in a shower?
How many kisses, darling, in an hour?’
Thereat you smiled, and shook your golden head;
‘Ah! not enough!’ you said.
Then said I: ‘Dear, it is not in my power
To tell how much, how many ways, my love;
Unnumbered are its ways even as all these,
Nor any depth so deep, nor height above,
May match therewith of any stars or seas.’
‘I would hear more,’ you smiled . . .
‘Then, love,’ I said,
‘This will I do: unbind me all this gold
Too heavy for your head,
And, one by one, I’ll count each shining thread,
And when the tale of all its wealth is told . . .’
‘As much as that!’ you said–
‘Then the full sum of all my love I’ll speak,
To the last unit tell the thing you ask . . .’
Thereat the gold, in gleaming torrents shed,
Fell loose adown each cheek,
Hiding you from me; I began my task.
”Twill last our lives,’ you said.
#10 “Yet, Love, Mere Love, Is Beautiful Indeed” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed,
And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright,
Let temple burn or flax! An equal light
Leaps in the flame from cedar-plant or weed.
And love is fire: and when I say at need,
I love thee—Mark!—I love thee!—in thy sight
I stand transfigured, glorified aright,
With conscience of the new rays that proceed
Out of my face toward thine. There’s nothing low
In love, when love the lowest. Meanest creatures
Who love God, God accepts while loving so.
And what I feel, across the inferior features
Of what I am, doth flash itself, and show
How that great work of Love enhances Nature’s.