The sun comes up on Diglake Fields,
It wakes the milk white hare,
The lady tells the stable boy
To saddle up the mare.
The hands that hold the reins are cold
The spurs are polished steel,
She'll take the mare without a care
To race on Diglake Fields.
The sun goes down across the town
And miners start to rise
Up from their beds with sleepy heads
To leave their anxious wives,
Off they troop with ne'er a look
To get the coal below,
So hello night, farewell daylight,
Be careful how you go.
The horse's hooves on Diglake fields
Throw water in the air
Sometimes she's lost among the mists
That fall around the mare
At her command is all this land
And all the coal that's there
In morning sun and at full run
She spots the milk white hare.
No sun will shine down in the mine
A thousand feet below,
No hares will run and days don't come
Where winds refuse to blow,
And by the cold dark river's run
They'll stream in from the sea
And men down there who work with care
See water in their dreams.
No fear of fox or of greyhound
The hare can beat them all
She can outrun the hunter's gun
And miner's dogs galore
But now this lady races on
To cut this wild hare down
She dearly wants the milk white fur
To trim her dancing gown.
The coal is cleared down in the mine
Cut by the morning shift
The cutters call the firemen in
To start another drift
The shots are placed, they take a break
They pass the tea can around,
When all retire, the shots are fired
And sixty men are drowned.
In the night the fire burns bright,
The band takes up the tune,
The dance begins and heads they turn,
She moves into the room.
Her face is flushed, her eyes they shine,
They sparkle from the fire,
Her gown is cut above the breast,
It's trimmed with milk white fur.