The Cry from the Mine

Out of the sinister caverns of Night,
Out of the depth where the hell-fires are glowing,
Cometh a cry, floating up to the light,
Here, where glad mortals are reaping and sowing:
"Night ever over us, blackness to cover us,
Deeper we crawl than the graves of the dead!
Sisters and brothers, whose fires burn so cheerily,
Fed by the coal that we work for so wearily,
Give us, in God's name, our wages of bread.

"Hell burning under us, gnome-like we dwell,
Store for your hearths ever scraping and scooping,
Stifling and thunderous vapours of Hell
Blacken our mouths, where we're stooping and drooping;
Terrors environ us lest the fierce fire on us
Leap, as it leapt on our kin who are sped;
Eager to toil for them, ready to die for them,
Darkly we grope for our handful of bread."

Out of the sinister caverns of Night,
Out of the depths where these weary ones wander,
Cometh the cry, floating up to the light,
Up to the sunshine that never shines yonder:
"Night ever over us, blackness to cover us,
Toil we for ever, less living than dead!
Sisters and brothers, whose fires burn so cheerily,
Fed by the coal that we dig for so drearily,
See that we lack not our wages of bread."

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin