Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HARTLEY CALAMITY, by JOSEPH SKIPSEY


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HARTLEY CALAMITY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The hartley men are noble, and
Last Line: And the last dread trumpet rung.
Subject(s): Death; Graves; Hartley Colliery Disaster (1862); Mines And Miners; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones


The Hartley men are noble, and
Ye'll hear a tale of woe;
I'll tell the doom of the Hartley men —
The year of Sixty-two.

'Twas on a Thursday morning, on
The first month of the year,
When there befell the thing that well
May rend the heart to hear.

Ere chanticleer with music rare
Awakes the old homestead,
The Hartley men are up and off
To earn their daily bread.

On, on they toil; with heat they broil,
And streams of sweat still glue
The stour unto their skins, till they
Are black as the coal they hew.

Now to and fro the putters go,
The waggons to and fro,
And clang on clang of wheel and hoof
Ring in the mine below.

The din and strife of human life
Awake in "wall" and "board,"
When, lo! a shock is felt which makes
Each human heart-beat heard.

Each bosom thuds, as each his duds
snatches and away,
And to the distant shaft he flees
With all the speed he may.

Each, all, they flee — by two — by three
They seek the shaft, they seek
An answer in each other's face,
To what they may not speak.

"Are we entombed?" they seem to ask,
For the shaft is closed, and no
Escape have they to God's bright day
From out the night below.

So stand in pain the Hartley men,
And swiftly o'er them comes
The memory of home, nay, all
That links us to our homes.

Despair at length renews their strength,
And they the shaft must clear,
And soon the sound of mall and pick,
Half drowns the voice of fear.

And hark! to the blow of the mall below
Do sounds above reply?
Hurra, hurra, for the Hartley men,
For now their rescue's nigh.

Their rescue nigh? The sounds of joy
And hope have ceased, and ere
A breath is drawn a rumble's heard
Drives them back to despair.

Together, now behold them bow;
Their burden'd souls unload
In cries that never rise in vain
Unto the living God.

Whilst yet they kneel, again they feel
Their strength renew'd — again
The swing and the ring of the mall attest
The might of the Hartley men.
And hark! to the blow of the mall below
Do sounds above reply?
Hurra, hurra, for the Hartley men,
For now their rescue's nigh.

But lo! yon light, erewhile so bright,
No longer lights the scene;
A cloud of mist yon light hath kiss'd,
And shorn it of its sheen.

A cloud of mist yon light hath kiss'd
And see! along must crawl,
Till one by one the lights are smote,
And darkness covers all.

"O, father, till the shaft is cleared,
Close beside me keep;
My eye-lids are together glued,
And I — and I — must sleep."

"Sleep, darling, sleep, and I will keep
Close by — heigh-ho!" — To keep
Himself awake the father strives —
But he too must sleep.

"O, brother, till the shaft is cleared,
Close beside me keep;
My eye-lids are together glued,
And I — and I — must sleep."

"Sleep, brother, sleep, and I will keep
Close by — heigh-ho!" — To keep
Himself awake the brother strives —
But he too must sleep.

"O, mother dear! wert thou near
Whilst sleep" — The orphan slept;
And all night long by the black pit-heap
The mother a dumb watch kept.

And fathers, and mothers, and sisters, and brothers
The lover and the new-made bride
A vigil kept for those who slept,
From eve to morning tide.

They slept — still sleep — in silence dread,
Two hundred old and young,
To awake when heaven and earth have sped
And the last dread trumpet rung.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net