Nay then, farewell, if this be so:
If you be of the purer stamp,
'Gainst wind and tide I cannot row,
I have no oil to feed that lamp:
Be not too rash, deny not flat,
For you refuse you know not what.

But rather take a farther day
For farther trial of my faith,
And rather make some wise delay
To see, and take some farther breath:
He may too rashly be denied
Whose faithful heart was never tried.

And though I be by jury cast,
Yet let me live a while in hope:
And though I be condemned at last,
Yet let my fancy have some scope:
And though the body fly away,
Yet let me with the shadow play.