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