The Cross Mountain Explosion
Fellow friends and miner boys,
Come listen to my song!
And as I sing pray drop a tear
For the miners who are gone.
On the ninth day of December,
In nineteen hundred and eleven;
Many were killed in Coal Creek mines,
I hope they are in Heaven.
One hundred and fifty brave miner boys
Went in, as I have been told;
Not thinking that before evening
In death they would all be cold.
Oh, some were in their snowy locks,
While others were in their prime;
And children in tender youth.
Were smothered in the mine.
They left their homes and loved ones,
That morning so cheerfuly;
They worked along till half-past eight,
When the explosion they dill see.
"Pass out quickly through the drift!
It was properly by fate:
They tried in vnin to save their lives,
But alas! alas! too late!
Oh. what they said or what they done,
No one outside could know,
No one could tell their horrors,
Their agonies or woe.
But the explosion came about them
Although their friends were brave,
They tried again to save their lives
No hand but God's could save.
Oh those pitiful little children
Who through the crowds would move
Saying, "Mama, where is Papa?
Why does he not come home?"
"What makes the people gather round?"
And Mother droops her head,
Not knowing that their fathers dear
Were numbered with the dead.
Oh, to hear the women crying
And to hear their sadful moan,
Would cause your eyes to fill with tears
If your heart were hard as stone
The hills around all echoed
As women and chidren cried,
This is the song of Cross Mountain mines
Where there our brothers died.
From Coal Dust on the Fiddle, Korson