Outsideaho

The Passsionate Pilgrim

Two loves I have, of comfort and despair
That like two spirits do suggest me still
My angel is a changeling colour'd fair
My worse spirit a woman colour'd ill

To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempts my angel from my side
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil
Wooing her purity with her fair pride

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies
That she might think me some untutor'd youth
To break an oath, to win a paradise?

And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell
For being both to me, both to each friend
I guess one angel in another's hell

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies
That she might think me some untutor'd youth
To break an oath, to win a paradise?
To break an oath, to win a paradise?

Lyrics by William Shakespeare