That which her slender waist confined
Shall now my joyful temples bind;
No monarch but would give his crown
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 ribband bound,
Take all the rest the Sun goes round!
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