At five in the morning as jolly as any,
The miner does rise to his work for to go.
He caresses his wife and his children so dearly
And bids them adieu before closing the door.
And goes down the deep shaft at the speed of an arrow,
His heart light and gay without fear or dread,
Has no thoughts of descending to danger and peril
But his life is depending on one single thread.
Now his wife had been dreaming of her husband so dearly;
She'd seen him in danger -- "God help me," she cried;
Too true was the dream of a poor woman's sorrow --
The rope broke ascending; her dear husband died,
Their home that morning was as jovial as any,
But a dark cloud came rolling straight o'er their door --
A widow, three children are left for to mourn him,
The one that they ne'er will see any more.
At the day of the funeral the great crowds had gathered,
He was loved by his friends, by his neighbors, by all;
To the grave went his corpse, by his friends he was followed;
The tears from our eyes like the rain they did fall,
And the widow, lamenting the fate of her husband,
Brokenhearted she died on the dear loved one's tomb,
To the world now is left their three little children,
Whose father had met with a coal miner's doom,
From George Korson, collected from Daniel Walsh, PA