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See
Me
Be
kynde
Agayne
My payne
Reteyne
in mynde
My swete bloode
On the roode
Dyde the good
my broder
My face ryght red
Myn armes spred
My woundes bled
thynke none oder
Beholde thou my syde
Wounded so ryght wyde
Bledynge sore that tyde
all for thyn owne sake
Thus for the I smerted
Why arte yu harde herted
Be by me conuerted
and thy swerynge aslake
Tere me nowe no more
My woundes are sore
Leue swerynge therfore
and come to my grace
I am redy
To graunte mercy
To the truely
for thy trespace
Come nowe nere
My frende dere
And appere
before me
I so
In wo
Dyde go
se se
I


Crye
Hy
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