Lo! the morning came; but the marriage-bell,
High up in the tower, rang a mournful knell
For the true heart buried ’neath earth and stone,
Far down in the heart of the mine, alone.
A sorrowful peal on their wedding-day,
For the breaking heart and the heart of clay,
And the face that looked from the tresses brown,
Was the saddest face in the mining town.
Thus time rolled along on its weary way,
Until fifty years, with their shadows gray,