On the loss of a Gold-open-ring in which some of Clarastella's hair was enclosed

Dear Gold not in thy own self precious now,
But for that more intrinsic value thou
Enclosest, which rich treasure makes thee more
Refin'd, and hallow'd than thou wast before,
(Though had that finger dropt, thou once didst grace,
I had susteind that fatal loss with less
Regret) Farwel! Yet thou dear Relique that
Li'st here entombd and buried in this vaut
Of Indian clay, which now thy corps must hold,
Thou didst deserve a richer urn than gold.

May then that happy he shal find thee, kiss,
And then adore this unknown Shrine of bliss!
Whose worth, since he can never know, but fear
Some magick spels within, and so not dare
To wear thee: thus afflicted, may he bring
It back to me, and I'l uncharm the Ring.

But thee in vain on earth, I hope to see,
Ile search the Heavens, for there thou next wilt be:
And whereas Berenices hair was cut,
And at the Lyons seavn-stard tail was put,
Thy hair shal shine yet higher in his head,
And's neck shal with this Ring be collared.