Bad wine upon us porez. Whoo ever knows thiss tale? I have come to know quite welle this find. Moods hold nawght a nail.
Desire es just a tunme meant well, me elle early flyht its spell.

Whoo passes thrughe this way, bide, for now, mye gaestic tree. Look ‘pon mee and see, fellows, gif one lik me waes near hye. A rood and naills one, two, thre, bind me well end hoong me. Fro speru in wiþ all myn side to my heort, I am thez woynds.