That which her slender waist confin'd, <br />Shall now my joyful temples bind; <br />No monarch but would give his crown, <br />His arms might do what this has done. <br /> <br />It was my heaven's extremest sphere, <br />The pale which held that lovely deer, <br />My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, <br />Did all within this circle move. <br /> <br />A narrow compass, and yet there <br />Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair; <br />Give me but what this ribbon bound, <br />Take all the rest the sun goes round.<br /><br />Edmund Waller<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-a-girdle/
