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 Heavens 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 thats good, and all thats fair!
Give me but what
this ribband bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round!
GO, lovely Rose
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble
her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her thats young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be
And not blush so to be admired.
Then diethat she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of
time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!
THE seas are quiet when the winds give oer;
So calm are we when passions are no more.
then we know how vain it was to boast
Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost.
Clouds of affection from
our younger eyes
Conceal that emptiness which age descries.
The souls dark cottage, batterd and decayd,
Lets in new light through chinks that Time hath
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become
As they draw near to their eternal home.
old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.
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