THAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown, His arms might do what this hath done. It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer: My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move. A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair. Give me but what this ribbon bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN APPEAL TO MY COUNTRYWOMEN by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER SANTA FILOMENA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 64 by PHILIP SIDNEY INDIAN NAMES by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY AGAMEMNON: THE SACRIFICE OF IPHIGENIA. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS THE COLLEGE, 1917 by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG |