Poem by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 144. Two loves I have of comfort and despair

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still,
The better angel is a man right fair:
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
To win me soon to hell my female evil,
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil:
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,
But being both from me both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.
Yet this shall I ne'er know but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

1. The Church at Stratford
2. Anne Hathaway
3. From the Rape of Lucrece
4. How Like A Winter Hath My Absence Been
5. When That I Was And A Little Tiny Boy

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