TO A LADY, FROM WHOM HE RECEIVED THE COPY OF THE POEM ENTITLED 'OF A TREE CUT IN PAPER,' WHICH FOR MANY YEARS HAD BEEN LOST.
Reading edition
Nothing lies hid from radiant eyes; All they subdue become their spies. Secrets, as choicest jewels, are Presented to oblige the fair; No wonder, then, that a lost thought Should there be found, where souls are caught.
The picture of fair Venus (that For which men say the goddess sat) Was lost, till Lely from your book Again that glorious image took.
If Virtue's self were lost, we might From your fair mind new copies write. All things but one you can restore; The heart you get returns no more.