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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
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