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MURDER UPON MURDER
12 A vile loose life they still run on,
regarding not their end, Their hearts still bent to cruelty,
not minding to amend: They cannot see Sathan the deuill, That drags them vnto all this euill. O murder, lust and murder,
is the joule sinke of sin.
13 FOr being flusht with humane bloud, they thirsted still for more,
The more from God O man thou runst
the greater is thy score: Like rauening wolues they pry & watch, How they the innocent may catch. O murder, lust and murder,
is the joule sinke oj sin.
14 The last that fell into their hands,
was Master Claxton he, A Gentleman of good descent,
and well belou'd truely, Who walkt vnarm'd by breake of day, In holborne fields they did him slay. O murder, &c.
15 A scarlet coate from him they tooke,
new suit from top to toe, His bootes, hat, shirt they tooke from him
much money eke also, And left him in the fields so wide So fled away and not discride. O murder, &c.
16 But marke the goodnesse of the Lord,
on the succeeding day, That Sherwood with his trull did think beyond sea take their way,