Here's an unusual ballad that I've found in a book about the ice block harvest in the Kennebec River here in Maine in the late 19th and early 20th centuries:
^^
By John "Liverpool Jack" Ellis, circa 1900
From TIDEWATER ICE, BY Jennie G. Everson,
published by The Maine State Museum,
Freeport, Maine, © 1970, p. 224.
Frozen Facts

For ice men generally and the Cochran-Oler Company in particular.

Come all you men of every land who are inclined to rove;
You're sure of work on the Kennebec at a place called Cedar grove;
Be sure you're well provided with clothing new and old,
For if you're not, as sure's you're born, you'll be frozen with the cold.

Chorus:

There's Mr. Barker, Ford, and Head, and Mr. Bramble, too,
Every morn when you turn out they'll find you work to do;
Quite early in the morning you're sure to hear their voice,
And you'll wish the Devil had you when you come to work on ice.

The is Superintendant Barker, a man you'll like at sight,
But when he gets you on the ice, he'll work you day and night;
And every frosty morning you're sure to hear him shout,
"Come out of that, you sleepers, the canal wants clearing out!" (CHO)

Next I'll mention Mr. Ford, a man we all love well,
Especially on pay day when our pockets he helps swell;
He shells us out our greenbacks, our pocket books we shut,
And then strike out for Richmond in search of tanglefoot. (CHO)

Our men are all good citizens, just take them as a rule,
There's "Killam" and "Dan" from Picou, and "Jack of Liverpool;"
"King" says he is a Yankee; his story makes me smile,
For I believe that boy was born at a place called Erin's Isle. (CHO)

We had hard luck last winter, may it never happen twice;
The water was so dirty we could not get our ice;
Starvation stared us in the face, indeed, it made us shiver
To see that nasty, muddy slosh blocking up the river. (CHO)

Our firm was nothing daunted, tho' their plans it did disjoint;
They instantly resolved to go to a place called Carney's Point;
We moved down our machinery, of men we hired a host,
But truth to say some were scared away by the former owner's ghost. (CHO)

To fill our buildings up with ice we tried with might and main,
But the spectre's power was often felt tugging at the chain;
We heard it trying to break us down, it stopped our engine twice,
But pull or tug, 'twas all the same, we were bound to have our ice. (CHO)

And now we have our buildings full, as they've often been before,
And "Cockcrane," "Head" and "Bramble" have gone back to Baltimore;
We wish them a safe passage, and everything that is nice;
May they return next winter, and help us with the ice. (CHO)

Of one thing more I'd like to speak, Mr. Hall will be my proof,
How Superintendent Barker rushed the work upon the roof;
Boards swung like mill sails in the air, both boards and battens too,
And when it came to nails, my boys, good gracious, how they flew! (CHO)

And now my rhyme is ended; I think I've said enough;
I hope I've none offended, although my manner's bluff;
I know I can't please every one, for no man has that knack,
But other poets have failed in this as well as "Liverpool Jack." (CHO)

It's very similar to the ballads that the lumbermen would compose and sing to entertain themselves after work in the evenings or at the end of the season.

I would be very interested if anyone is aware of any other songs that have to do with the ice harvest. The only other one I'm aware of has to do with pulling a horse out of Tickle Post Pond after it fell through the ice.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble