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.