The Tragedy Of Mossdale Caves Poem by C Richard Miles

So deep, deep down, in caverns underground
In Mossdale Caves in Yorkshire, comes the cry:
We are the lost; we never will be found.

On bleak, bleak moors, mid marsh and mossy mound,
The bounding brooks, into the cliff face, fly
So deep, deep down, in caverns underground.

To hidden holes whose songs like Sirens sound
As calcite columns call, through arches high:
We are the lost; we never will be found.

But one dread day, forbidden paths to pound,
Brave cavers climbed, stark stalactites to spy
So deep, deep down, in caverns underground.

Ere long, despairing, plaintive calls rang round,
As, one by one, they saw their lanterns die:
We are the lost; we never will be found.

Wild waters rose and all explorers drowned
But no-one heard, nor mourners wondered why
So deep, deep down, in caverns underground,
We are the lost; we never will be found.