Sorry Tale

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Upon still another evening she said: Look yel The side that flowed red doth weep fresh drops, e'en unto this day. Yea adayl And this shed of the tides (times) agone but bought of the then, and yet He, smiling, sheddeth ever, yea, ever. The every day seeth the weeped drops. Think ye then that this hand would set those drops gushed, or yet touch them that fell and be dust that they stir in their holy, athout (without) a tremor?