Springhill Mine Disaster (1891)

Hark, the horn blows loud and long,
There is something wrong I fear,
There's mourning in the dismal dells
Keeps sounding in my ear,
Dark phantoms rise before my eyes,
News comes, the vision's fled,
One hundred three and twenty of our
Spring hill miners dead.

Killed in the bowels of the earth
Where none could hear their cries,
Or listen to a last request
Nor close their dying eyes.

From Maritime Folk Songs, Creighton
Collected from Ruth Metcalfe, Nova Scotia
RG
oct96