Death in Donora

I have felt the fog in my throat --


The misty hand of Death caress my face;


I have wrestled with a frightful foe


Who strangled me with wisps of gray fog-lace.


Now in my eyes since I have died.


The bleak, bare hills rise in stupid might


With scars of its slavery imbedded deep;


And the people still live -- still live -- in the poisonous night.

 

Folklorist Dan G. Hoffman reported collecting the ballad "Death in Donora" from area resident John P. Clark