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Home  »  library  »  poem  »  On a Girdle

C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

On a Girdle

By Edmund Waller (1606–1687)

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.