Coal and the Afton Glen

By Bobby Rogerson

 

Forgether bairns, aroond by me,
And I will tell the tale tae ye
O' when the Afton's bonnie Glen
Was kenn't s hame by Minin' Men.

Noo tak heed weans, list weel tae me,
The dungeon depths ye'll never see;
The gates tae Hell are closed lang syne,
--may ye never see anither mine!

Noo listen Son--yer Da was born
In earshot o' yon pitheid horn,
That blared alike for fire an' flood,
And the spillin' o' a man's lifeblood.

You, Bonnie Lass, yer Da's lang gone,
Depairted in a bonnie dawn,
That wisna bonnie where He lay,
Pinned underground 'mid smoth'rin' clay---

An' weel I mind yon Lammas eve,
That left sae mony cause tae grieve,
Mud, deadly, slid--an' thirteen men
Forever sleep in Afton Glen.

Sae mony mair, my bonnie Bairns,
Lie sleepin' neath memorial cairns,
A mindin' o' the debt ye owe
Tae the lads wha lost their lives below.

Sae tak heed Bairns, set high yer sight,
Ne'er bow the knee tae belted knight!
--And ever bear yer names wi' pride,
Ye're minin' stock, frae the Afton side!

And noo, lang syne, the Lord be praised,
The final tow at last's been raised;
King Coal's nae mair in Afton Glen,
Where forever sleep the Minin' Men!

Bobby Rogerson, circa 1965