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EBBA 30906

British Library - Roxburghe
Ballad XSLT Template
The Suffolk Miracle,
OR,
A Relation of a Young Man, who, a Month after his Death, appeared to his Sweet-heart, and
carryed her behind him Forty Miles in two hours time, and was never seen after but in the
Grave.
To the Tune of, My Bleeding heart, etc.

A Wonder stranger ner was known
then what I now shall treat upon,
In Suffolk there did lately dwell
a Farmer rich and known full well.

He had a Daughter fair and bright,
on whom he placd his chief delight,
Her beauty was beyond compare
she was both vertuous and fair.

There was a young man living by,
who was so charmed with her eye,
That he could never be at rest,
he was with love so much possest,

He made address to her, and she
did grant him love immediately;
But when her Father came to here,
he parted her and her poor dear.

Forty miles distant was she sent
unto his brothers with intent,
That she should there so long remain
till she had changd her mind again.

Hereat this young man sadly grievd
but knew not how to be relievd,
He sighd and sobd continually
that his true love he could not see.

She by no means could to him send
who was her hearts espoused friend,
He sighd she grievd but all in vain
for she confind must still remain.

He mournd so much that Doctors art
could give no ease unto his heart
Who was so strangly terrified
that in short time for love he dght

SHe that from him was sent away,
knew nothing of his dying day,
But constant still she did remain
to love the dead was then in vain.

After he had in grave been laid
a month or more unto this maid,
He comes about middle of the night
who joyd to see her hearts delight.

Her Fathers Horse which well she knew
her mothers hood and safeguard too,
He brought with him to testifie
her parents order he came by.

Which when her unckle understood
he hopt it would be for her good,
And gave consent to her straight way,
that with him she should come away.

When she was got her love behind
they passd as swift as any wind,
That in two hours or little more
he brought her to her Fathers door.

But as they did this great haste make
he did complain his head did ake,
Her Handcherchief she then took out
and tyed the same his head about.

And unto him she thus did say
thou art as cold as any clay,
When we come home a fire weel have
but little dreamt he went to Grave.

Soon were they at her Fathers door
and after she ner see him more,
Ile set the Horse up then he said
and there he set this harmless maid.

She knockt and strait a man he cryed
whose there, tis I, she then replyed,
Who wondred much her voice to hear
and was possest with dread and fear.

Her Father he did tell, and then
he stared like an affrighted man.
Down stairs he ran, and when he see her
cryd out my Child how camst thou here.

Pray Sir did you not send for me
by such a messenger said she,
Which made his hair stare on his head,
as knowing well that he was dead.

Where is he then to her he said
hes in the stable quoth the maid,
Go in said he and go to bed
ile see the horse well littered.

He stared about and there could hee
no shape of any mankind see,
But found his horse all on a sweat,
which made him in a deadly fret.

His Daughter he said nothing too
nor no one else though well they knew,
That he was dead a month before
for fear of grieveing her full sore.

Her father to his Father went
who was deceasd, with this intent
To tell him what his daughter said
so both came back unto this maid.

They askd her and she still did say
twas he that then brought her away,
Which when they heard they were amazd
and on each others strangly gazd.

A Handcherchief she said she tyed
about his head and that they cryed,
The Sexton they did speak unto
that he the grave would then undoe.

Affrighted then they did behold
his body turning into mould,
And though he had a month been dead
this kercheif was about his head.

This thing unto her then they told
and the whole truth they unfold,
She was thereat so terrified
and grievd she quickly after dyed.

Part not true love you Rich men then,
but if they be right honest men,
Your daughters love give them their way,
for force oft breeds their lives decay.


Printed by and for A. M, and sold by the Booksellers of Pye-corner and London-bridge

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