Empty Campsite

Somewhere in the Dragoons there lies an empty camp,

Up on Soren Pass, it’s a long, long tramp.

Where a miner found some glitter in a vein of quartz,

Digging through the rock, he had a mine of sorts.

We don’t know what he found, nor why he’s not around,

The wind’s the only sound, on this lonesome ground.

The mystery is but how, his camp sits empty now,

He weren’t no big highbrow, is all we can avow.

Did he wander down below, with only candle glow,

A poor lost sourdough, who met his final woe?

Is he buried in a stope, or somewhere down the slope?

There ain’t no use to mope, for him there is no hope.

The ashes have gone cold, lost in days of old,

The story must be told, for those who lust for gold.

So maybe shed a tear, ‘cuz he isn’t here,

The cost of gold was dear. back in yesteryear.

LDT September 25, ‘24