TWO loves I have of
comfort and despair |
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Which like two spirits do suggest me still: |
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The better angel is a man right fair, |
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The worser spirit a woman, colourd
ill. |
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To win me soon to hell, my female evil |
5 |
Tempteth my better angel from my side, |
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And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, |
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Wooing his purity with her foul pride. |
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And whether that my angel be turnd
fiend |
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Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; |
10 |
But being both from me, both to each friend, |
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I guess one angel in anothers hell: |
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Yet this shall I neer know,
but live in doubt, |
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Till my bad angel fire my good
one out. |
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