Floyd Collins


“Floyd Collins,” Appalachian State University Libraries Digital Collections, accessed May 28, 2022, https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/items/show/31540.

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Floyd Collins


One leaf typewritten on the front side. The document is in good physical condition. The document was laminated. The upper left corner was folded into the laminate. There are staple holes at the upper left corner. There are stains of unknown origin throughout the document. There is an acid-related stain along the right edge.


Ballads -- United States Collins, Floyd, 1890-1925 -- Songs and music Caving accidents -- Songs and music Rescues -- Songs and music Death -- Songs and music

Alternative Title

Floyd Collins' Death


W. L. Eury Appalachian Collection, Appalachian State University

Date Created



I. G. Greer


The images and audio files contained in the "So Mote It Ever Be: The Folksong Heritage of North Carolina's Northern Blue Ridge Mountains" collection are available for free personal, non-commercial, and educational use, provided that proper citation is used (e.g. I. G. Greer/W. Amos Abrams Manuscript Files Series, Folksong Files Subseries. W. L. Eury Appalachian Collection. Special Collections. Appalachian State University, Boone, NC). Any commercial use of the materials without the written permission of Appalachian State University is strictly prohibited. Please contact the Appalachian State University W. L. Eury Appalachian Collection with specific questions or with requests for further information.








Floyd Collins.

Oh, come all ye young people,
And listen while I tell
The fate of Floyd Collins,
A lad we all knew well.
His face was fair and handsome,
And his hear was true and brave.
His body now lies sleeping
In the sand stone cave.

How sad, how sad the story,
It fills my eyes with tears.
The memory, too will linger
For many, many years.
The broken hearted father,
Who tried his boy to save,
Will now weep tears of sorrow
At the door of Floyd's cave.

Dear mother, don't you worry.
Dear Father, Don't be sad,
And I'll tell you all my troubles
In an awful dream I had.
I dreamed I was a prisoner
My life I could not save.
I cried: Oh, must I perish
Within the silent cave.

The rescue party labored,
They worked both night and day
To move that mighty barrier
That stood within their way.
To rescue Floyd Collins,
It was a battle cry.
We'll never, no we'll never
Let Floyd Collins die.

But on the fatal moring
The sun rose in the sky.
The workers were still busy.
We'll save him by and by.
But oh, how sad the ending.
His life they could not save.
His body now lies sleeping
In a lonely sand stone cave.

Young people, all take warning
From Floyd Collins' fate,
And get right with your maker
Before it is too late.
It may not be a sand cave
In which we find our tomb
But at the bar of judgment
We, too, must meet our doom.

Classification Title

Floyd Collins

Document Title

Floyd Collins

Scholarly Classification

Brown, Native American Ballads - 212 Laws, G 22

Dimensions - Original

217 mm x 356 mm

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File name


Transcription Date


Transcribed By

Susan G. Pepper

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