For since 'twas mine, the white hath lost its hue,
To show 'twas ne'er it self but whilst in you,
The virgin wax hath blushed it self to red
Since it with me hath lost its maidenhead.
You, fairest nymph, are wax: O, may you be
As well in softness as in purity!
Till fate and your own happy choice reveal
Whom you shall so far bless to make your seal.
Notes
Dryden, now twenty-four and living at Cambridge, was in love with his fair cousin, Honor, one of the daughters of Sir John Driden, baronet. The letter, of which these lines are part, is printed by Malone, and in Scott's edition of Dryden's Works.
~Globe Edition of the Works of Dryden, 1921.
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