To a Lady from whom he received the foregoing Copy which for many years had been lost.

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 sate,
Was lost, till Lilly from your Look,
Again that Glorious Image took;

If Vertue'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.