The Kentish MIRACLE:
OR,
A Strange and Miraculous work of Gods Providence, shewed to a poor
distressed Widow, and her Seven small Fatherless Children, who lived by a burnt six-
penny Loaf of Bread, and a little Water, for above seven Weeks, in the wild of Kent,
to the Praise and Glory of Almighty God.
To the Tune of, A rich Merchant Man.
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TAke comfort Christians all,
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for never shall you see
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The faithful forsaken quite,
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and left in misery.
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Who lives and loves to hear
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the truth in each degree,
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[The] story of a widows plaint,
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[let th]em give ear to me.
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Who by this widow here
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sufficient have been try'd,
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The which was left both poor & bare
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when as her husband dy'd.
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And seven young children small
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upon her hands likewise,
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And knew not how to buy them bread,
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their hunger to suffice.
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She labours night and day,
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she spins and takes great pain,
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And many a thing to buy them bread
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God knows, she lays in pawn.
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But when the appointed time,
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as time consumeth all,
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O then she knew not how to keep
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her hungry Children small.
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MOst merciful God, said she,
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cast down a tender eye,
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And suffer not thy Servant here
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with a famishing death to dye.
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Thou that the Ravens didst send
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Elias for to feed,
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When that he was in wilderness
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in extream want and need.
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And rained Bread from Heaven
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Old Israel to preserve:
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And wouldst not in the lyons den
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let Daniel pine and starve.
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I know my Lord, she said,
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thou didst five thousand feed
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With five small Barley Loaves,
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as we in Scripture read.
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And each one had enough
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their hunger to sustain;
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& afterwards twelve baskets full
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of scraps did still remain.
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I know my Lord, she said,
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thou art so mighty still:
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And therefore everything be done
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according to thy will.
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Her Prayers ended thus;
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her Children cry'd straitway,
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O Mother dear give us some bread
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we have eat none today.
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Give me some bread, said one
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give me some bread, said another
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And thus the silly Infants flock
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about their carefull Mother.
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The good Soul hearing this,
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perswades them to be still,
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O soon at night my lambs said she
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you shall have bread your fill.
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I will to Market go,
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let Corn be cheap or dear,
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I'l sell my Coat to buy some corn
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if you'l be quiet here.
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The Children smil'd at this,
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content they did remain,
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Good Mother every one could say
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come quickly home again.
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Three Miles this woman went
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unto the Market Town,
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And for five shillings she did sell
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her Coat & Russet Gown.
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Who being glad in heart,
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to Market straight she hies,
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But there alas her purse was cut
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e're any Corn she buys.
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She cryeth out, God knows,
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she weeps and makes her moan,
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To everyone that passeth by,
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her grief she makes it known.
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But yet behold and see,
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here in her woeful case.
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Her Husbands Brother he was one
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that sold Corn in that place.
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This woeful woman then
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did him desire and pray,
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To trust her with a peck of corn
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till the next Market day.
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But he denies her flat,
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and thus he tells her plain,
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I shall not have to serve my turn
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till Corn do come again.
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More heed you might have took
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unto your purse said he,
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And not to lose your money here
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so fond and foolishly.
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This dogged answer cut
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this poor soul to the Heart,
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Especially when she did think
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upon her Infants smart,
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Who sits and strives at home,
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poor souls, but all in vain,
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Which of them should the biggest piece
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of bread and butter gain.
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But far alas they were
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from butter, bread, or cheese,
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Or anything to comfort them
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that their poor Mother sees.
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But now behold Gods work:
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As homeward she return'd,
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A Bakers Boy gave her a Loaf
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which was a little burn[']d.
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She gave God thanks for that,
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& joyful in her hand
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She bears the bread home to her babes,
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which waiting for her stand.
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She kisses them each one,
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and with a chearful look:
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And said we will to supper go
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when you have said your book.
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Meantime she makes a fire,
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and Apples therein throws,
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The Widow and her seven children
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to supper sweetly goes.
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The Apples roasted well,
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and she doth cut them bread,
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On every piece most lovingly
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she doth the Apple spread.
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Instead of drink she had
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a Cup of Water cleer,
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And every Child rejoyced much,
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and said here is good chear.
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Behold when they had supt,
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for God their food did bless,
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when they had supt & were sufficd
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their Loaf was never the less.
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For seven weeks space together,
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as story's plainly spread,
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The widow & her seven children
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by this one Loaf was fed.
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The cut-Purse man I say,
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he brake his Neck in Kent,
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E'r he of this poor widows money
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one single penny had spent.
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And yet behold and see
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her Husbands churlish brother,
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That would not trust one peck of corn,
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her children to succour.
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And straightway after this
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his Corn was washt away
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All by a mighty flood that came
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before the break of day.
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The Gentlemen, and such
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that did this wonder see,
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Unto this widow gave such gifts
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that ne'r more wanted she.
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And now good people all,
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you here may plainly see,
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Gods servants are not forsaken quite
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Gods mercies is to them free.
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