Author William Wordsworth Glad sight wherever new with oldIs joined through some dear homeborn tie;The life of all that we beholdDepends upon that mystery.Vain is the glory of the sky,The beauty vain of field and groveUnless, while with admiring eyeWe gaze, we also learn to love. Tags love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments