eighteen fifty industry,
men, women, children scarred,
ovens spewing sparks of death,
soulful welshmen charred.

greed of evolution,
marches on and treads,
upon the hungry townfolk,
that seldom see their beds.

ironmasters morals,
swilling in the smoke,
furnace fire bellows,
valley people choke.

ancestors bore hardship,
in days of horse and cart,
and modelled us to what we are....
welsh, proud, with homely hearts.