© Jean Ritchie, Geordie Music Publishing

Oh Say, did you see him; it was early this morning.
He passed by your houses on his way to the coal.
He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home

It was just before noon, I was feeding the children,
Ben Moseley came running to give us the news.
Number eight was all flooded, many men were in danger
And we don’t know their number, but we fear they’re all doomed

I picked up the baby and I left all the others
To comfort each other and to pray for their own
There’s Tommy, fourteen, and there’s John not much younger
And their time soon is coming to go down the dark hole

What will I say to his poor little children?
And what will I tell his dear mother at home?
And it’s what will I say to my heart that’s clear broken?
To my heart that’s clear broken if my darling is gone

If I had the money to do more than just feed them
I’d give them good learning, the best could be found
So when they growed up they’d be checkers and weighers
And not spend their whole life in the dark underground

Oh say, did you see him; it was early this morning.
He passed by your houses on his way to the coal
He was tall, he was slender, and his dark eyes so tender
His occupation was mining, West Virginia his home.