He that is strucken blind cannot forget

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act i. Sc. 1.

And who (in time) knows whither we may vent

The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores

This gain of our best glory shall be sent

T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores?

What worlds in the yet unformed Occident

May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours?

Samuel Daniel (1562-1619): Musophilus. Stanza 163.

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,—

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

John Dryden (1631-1701): Alexander's Feast. Line 58.

The unsunn'd heaps

Of miser's treasure.

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 398.