We all of us stand on the edge of the grave, tossed here and there, like a storm beaten wave, we don't know for a second, or scarcely a breath, one hour in life, the next one in death. How often we hear of men losing their lives, leaving in sorrow, their children and wives, but as sure as the tide to eternity rolls, there's sweet rest in heaven, for poor colliery souls
taken from
http://www.welshcoalmines.co.uk/htmp...t_Abercarn.htm