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The grey pines hang on tightly
To the granite waves, the storm that doesn' t blow
Where the eternally hardened waves trouble
The frozen sea of the shield.
But down in this shaft there's neither wind nor rain
But the rattle of the cage and the squeal of the cable
The hum of the belt and the bit cutting
And days without the light of the sun.
The valleys I walked as a young boy
Through the green of spring and the blaze of autumn
My home on the banks of the great Ottawa
I left that all behind me.
And hundreds of miles I travelled sadly
By train to the Porcupine
In the remote kingdom of the moose and the beaver
To find work in the mine.
I had to leave my parents in grief
And my dear brother who'll get the farm
Working the fields beneath the sun's brilliance
And the starry sky at night.
But down in the mine, every now and again
I close my eyes and go back in my mind
To the wooded place where I said goodbye to her
The girl that I still love.
I remember the fragrance of the dewy night
As I lay with my sweetheart stretched beside me
The moon brushing her curling red hair
And her breast trembling beneath my hands.
There's no moonlight here in the mine
Where the night is black and endless
But my helmet-lamp shining brightly
Through the golden guts of the underworld.