The Sorry Tale: A Story of the Time of Christ - Tapa dura

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And e'en this day, methinks, 'Tis tongued unto the earth. The sand's soft clung about the feet a-bared. That still should trod 'pon stones a-sharped. Yea, Earth e'en then did hold the greened tree That burst the sod for upping of the cross. And lo, the voices of the Earth Cried out and sounded discord 'Mid the heaven-song of Him. And He a-walked Him from the sea's calm shore And through the vale, the bittered cup to sup. Methinks that there within the garden place I see me of His holied self a-stripped. No brother of the flesh might know of Him, For God be God and man doth fear to know. And Earth doth stand it, still a-crying out Against this song of love. And yet, I do to see Him sit, Calm eyes unto the sea And wisdomed past the tell. Upon still another evening she said: "Look ye! The side that flowed red doth weep fresh drops, e'en unto this day. Yea aday! 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 these drops gushed, or yet touch them that fell and be dust that they stir in their holy, athout (without) a tremor? "Ah, men of Earth, look! look! A mid thy day stalketh He. Yea, and thou mayest see His drops aflow e'en upon thy byways. Yea, and what doest thou that the drops be stopped? He be the oped chalice that poureth the cleansed flow ever, ever, ever. Think ye that they who fall, bathed of blood, be stopped athin (within) their own flow? Nay! - born anew athin (within) His own. Yea, His arms cradle seas. Yea, and His hands plucketh e'en the motes as His own. Yea, His treasures gleam. And I be a-telling thee - ah, joy! - much be His that He doth treasure that Earth hath cast as chaff. About the PublisherForgotten Books is a publisher of historical writings, such as: Philosophy, Classics, S