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Sonnets 144
#1
William Shakespeare
1564 – 1616 England



CXLIV.

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 colour'd 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 turn'd fiend
Suspect I may, but 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.



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Sonnets 144 - von ZaunköniG - 28.10.2007, 14:16
RE: Sonnets 144 - von ZaunköniG - 12.05.2023, 10:20

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