Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
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Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
 
E. Waller
 
XCV. On a Girdle
 
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 has done. 
  
It was my Heaven's extremest sphere,         5
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:  10
Give me but what this ribband bound, 
Take all the rest the Sun goes round. 
 
 
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