Classic Poem

Good Christians all, both great and small, I pray you lend an ear,
And listen with attention while the truth I do declare;
When you hear this lamentation, it will cause you to all turn pale —
All about the suffocation in the mines of Avondale.

On the sixteenth day of September, in eighteen sixty-nine,
Those miners all, they got a call to go work in the mines;
But little did they think of death would gloom their vale
Before they would return again from the mines of Avondale.

The women, and the children, too, their hearts were filled with joy
To see their men go work again, and likewise every boy;
But a dismal sight, in broad daylight, which made them soon turn pale,
When they saw the breakers burning in the mines of Avondale.

From here and there and everywhere they gathered in a crowd,
Some tearing off their clothes and hair, and crying out aloud;
" Get out our husbands and our sons, for death is going to steal
Their lives away, without delay, in the mines of Avondale! "

But all in vain! there was no hope one single soul to save;
There was no second outlet to this ignominious cave.
No pen can write the awful fright, and horror did prevail
Among those dying victims in the mines of Avondale.

A consultation then took place; some were asked to volunteer
For to go down in this dismal shaft to seek their comrades dear.
Two Welshmen brave, without dismay and courage without fail,
Went down the shafts without delay, in the mines of Avondale.

When at the bottom they arrived, and thought to make their way,
One of them died for the want of air, while the other in great dismay —
He gave a sign to lift him up, to tell the fearful tale,
That all were lost forever in the mines of Avondale.

A second effort then took place, to send down some fresh air.
The next men that went down again, they took of them great care.
They traversed then the chambers, and this time did not fail
In finding their dead bodies in the mines of Avondale.

Sixty-seven was the number that in one heap were found.
They seemed to be awaiting their sad fate underground.
They found a father with his son clasped in his arms so frail;
There were heart-rending scenes in the mines of Avondale.

Now to conclude and make an end, the number to pen down,
One hundred and ten of brave, stout men were smothered underground.
There in their grave 'till their last day; their widows weep and wail,
And oft-rent cries may rend the skies all around through Avondale.