Poem by Francis Beaumont

True Beauty

May I find a woman fair,
And her mind as clear as air,
If her beauty go alone,
'Tis to me as if't were none.

May I find a woman rich,
And not of too high a pitch;
If that pride should cause disdain,
Tell me, lover, where's thy gain?

May I find a woman wise,
And her falseliood not disguise;
Hath she wit as she hath will,
Double arm'd she is to ill.

May I find a woman kind,
And not wavering like the wind:
How should I call that love mine,
When 'tis his, and his, and thine?

May I find a woman true,
There is Bettutv's fairest hue,
There is Beauty, Love, and Wit:
Happy he can compass it. 

1. The Examination of His Mistress's Perfections
2. The Conclusion
3. The Author to the Reader
4. A Funeral Elegy on the Death of the Lady Penelope Clifton
5. Salmacis and Hermaphroditus

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