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Sonnet CXLIV
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| Two loves I have of comfort and despair, | 1
| Which like two spirits do suggest me still: | 2
| The better angel is a man right fair, | 3
| The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. | 4
| To win me soon to hell, my female evil | 5
| Tempteth my better angel from my side, | 6
| And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, | 7
| Wooing his purity with her foul pride. | 8
| And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend | 9
| Suspect I may, but not directly tell; | 10
| But being both from me, both to each friend, | 11
| I guess one angel in another's hell: | 12
| Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, | 13
| Till my bad angel fire my good one out. | 14
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