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, 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.