about Irish lads thought of as potential nationalist fighter being sent to Welsh coal-mines I give you this .
"In Monmouthshire"
When greed was born in Monmouthshire
In Monmouthshire,
The hill's were torn for mammon's fire,
And wheels went round,
And skulls were cracked,
And limbs were ground,
And nerves were wracked.
No time to dream,
No time to stand and stare,
In that fell scheme,
To foul the air,
To grab the coal
And scorn the tree,
And sell the soul
to buy a spree.
And breasts were bruised
In dismal dens,
And streets were used
As breeding pens.
And babes were born
to feed the fire,
When hills were torn
In Monmouthshire.
By Idris Davies. For my aunt who wouldn't look towards Caversham because she'd see the big house on the hill owned by mine-owners who exploited the Welsh.
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