The Perfect Wife
found in Proverbs 31:10-31
Who can find a wife so blest
With moral heart and righteous ways?
Her virtue cannot be assessed,
Nor can her value be appraised.
She holds her husband’s highest trust,
And earned his total confidence,
So that he need not readjust
His wealth and gain through fraudulence.
She’ll help him out in all she can
And show him goodness as his wife;
No harm nor evil will she plan,
But seek to aid him all her life.
She weaves her clothes but cannot start
Until she finds both flax and wool;
With skillful hands and cheerful heart
She spins with grace unmatchable.
She’s like the busy merchants’ ships
Importing goods from distant shores;
And like the merchants’ daily trips,
She brings her food within her doors.
She rises early — while yet night
To fix her family’s daily meat;
She wakes before the morning’s light
To give her servants food to eat.
She surveys several plots of land
Before she purchases a field;
She tills and works it with her hand
And plants a vineyard for her yield.
Her work is of the highest grade —
She questions nothing that she earns.
But still she works as daylight fades,
Far in the night her candle burns.
She holds her hand toward those in need
And helps the poor within her reach;
Her palms outstretched for all, indeed,
Her open arms to comfort each.
She does not dread the early snows
Nor fears the blast of winter’s storm,
Because the clothes she’s made, she knows,
Will keep her family safe and warm.
She makes her rugs of tapestry,
And cushions for her furniture;
Her clothing is of quality
With silken scarlet, fine and pure.
Her husband’s known within the gate
For there he has a vital seat,
To enter councils of debate
When all the chiefs and elders meet.
She makes fine garments to be worn
And sells them to the merchant trade,
Supplying clothing to adorn
And satisfy the comely maid.
She’s dressed in honor, robed in grace,
And clothed in strength and dignity;
The future she will gladly face —
And doesn’t fear what she can’t see.
Constructive wisdom’s on her jaw,
Within her mouth lies reasoning;
And with her tongue she keeps the law
Of gentle words that never sting.
She looks well into those affairs
Within her home with thoughtfulness,
And knowing of its dreadful snares
She stays away from idleness.
Her children rise and bless her name,
They stand and call her blessed one;
Her husband, also, does the same,
And praises her for all she’s done:
Great many women do so well
With noble virtue in their lives,
But you, above them all, excel
Far higher than all other wives.
Though charm and beauty be adored —
They’re for a moment fleeting past;
The woman who yet fears the Lord
Shall be the woman praised at last.
Now, give to her her just reward,
And for her labors, laurel bays.
And let her works not be ignored,
But bring her long and ceaseless praise.
With moral heart and righteous ways?
Her virtue cannot be assessed,
Nor can her value be appraised.
She holds her husband’s highest trust,
And earned his total confidence,
So that he need not readjust
His wealth and gain through fraudulence.
She’ll help him out in all she can
And show him goodness as his wife;
No harm nor evil will she plan,
But seek to aid him all her life.
She weaves her clothes but cannot start
Until she finds both flax and wool;
With skillful hands and cheerful heart
She spins with grace unmatchable.
She’s like the busy merchants’ ships
Importing goods from distant shores;
And like the merchants’ daily trips,
She brings her food within her doors.
She rises early — while yet night
To fix her family’s daily meat;
She wakes before the morning’s light
To give her servants food to eat.
She surveys several plots of land
Before she purchases a field;
She tills and works it with her hand
And plants a vineyard for her yield.
Her work is of the highest grade —
She questions nothing that she earns.
But still she works as daylight fades,
Far in the night her candle burns.
She holds her hand toward those in need
And helps the poor within her reach;
Her palms outstretched for all, indeed,
Her open arms to comfort each.
She does not dread the early snows
Nor fears the blast of winter’s storm,
Because the clothes she’s made, she knows,
Will keep her family safe and warm.
She makes her rugs of tapestry,
And cushions for her furniture;
Her clothing is of quality
With silken scarlet, fine and pure.
Her husband’s known within the gate
For there he has a vital seat,
To enter councils of debate
When all the chiefs and elders meet.
She makes fine garments to be worn
And sells them to the merchant trade,
Supplying clothing to adorn
And satisfy the comely maid.
She’s dressed in honor, robed in grace,
And clothed in strength and dignity;
The future she will gladly face —
And doesn’t fear what she can’t see.
Constructive wisdom’s on her jaw,
Within her mouth lies reasoning;
And with her tongue she keeps the law
Of gentle words that never sting.
She looks well into those affairs
Within her home with thoughtfulness,
And knowing of its dreadful snares
She stays away from idleness.
Her children rise and bless her name,
They stand and call her blessed one;
Her husband, also, does the same,
And praises her for all she’s done:
Great many women do so well
With noble virtue in their lives,
But you, above them all, excel
Far higher than all other wives.
Though charm and beauty be adored —
They’re for a moment fleeting past;
The woman who yet fears the Lord
Shall be the woman praised at last.
Now, give to her her just reward,
And for her labors, laurel bays.
And let her works not be ignored,
But bring her long and ceaseless praise.
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