To thy releasing hand I still had cried,
Who could not yield mine honor up; but this,
The debt of life, I can myself discharge.
And if I die not so for Christ, to-morrow
Will these be angered less with me? and then
For taking flight, for guiltiness of thy guilt,
My helper, shall I not less nobly die?
Was it from martyrdom erewhile I ran,
Or only from the maw of wickedness?
And lightly I relinquished unto thee