C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
True Beauty
By Francis Beaumont (15841616)
M
And her mind as clear as air:
If her beauty go alone,
’Tis to me as if ’twere none.
And not of too high a pitch:
If that pride should cause disdain,
Tell me, lover, where’s thy gain?
And her falsehood not disguise:
Hath she wit as she hath will,
Double armed she is to ill.
And not wavering like the wind:
How should I call that love mine,
When ’tis his, and his, and thine?
There is beauty’s fairest hue,
There is beauty, love, and wit:
Happy he can compass it!