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...SONNET by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY PEBBLES by KENNETH SLADE ALLING ECHOES OF SPRING: 4 by MATHILDE BLIND DEPARTURE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TWO VOICES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 19 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |