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THE CRIES OF THE DEAD
Masters come shed your teares, mothers come make your moane,
Seruants with sad laments, rue the calamity,
Those gentle children had; liuing in missery.
7 The first a pretty boy,
had with a suddaine spurne, One of his eares strooke off,
woefully rent and torne: Where vnder surgeons hands,
he liued long in woe, By this same grieuous wound,
this vilaine gaue him so.
8 Most heauy was his hand,
and his heart full of strif, Ungodly all the dayes
of this his passed life, Who so perswading him
to patient Charity, Was still abussed much,
by this wretch wilfully.
9 Witness this harmles child,
that he misused sore, Scourging him day by day,
not knowing cause wherefore, Unlawfull gouernment
brings him vnto his end, From such like cruelty
all seruants God defend.
io r I "His his deeds was not known -1- which he kept secretly Nor to light, many a day came this vile villany