It
was many and many a years ago,
In a town near New York,
That a
dudett there lived who you probobly know
By the name of Gwendolyn
T;
And this dudett she lived with no other thought
Than to
fight and be gought by aliens like he.
I was a child and she
was a child,
In this town near New York;
But we loved with a
love that was more than love-
I and my Gwendolyn T;
With a
fight that the enemies took her
desired her and me.
And
this was the reason that, long ago,
In this town near New York,
A
fire blew out of a hand, burning
My beautiful Gwendolyn T;
So
that her protective cousin came
And took her away from me,
To
shut her up in a cemetary
In this town near New York
The
aliens, not half so happy in the void,
Went envying her and
me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this town
near New York)
That the fire came out of the alien hand that
night,
Chilling and killing my Gwendolyn T.
But that fight
stronger by far than the other fights
Of those who were older than
we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the aliens in void
above,
Nor the aliens down under our feet,
Can ever dissever my
soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Gwendolyn T.
For the
water never seems without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful
Gwendolyn T;
And the stars always rise but I feel the bright
eyes
Of the beautiful Gwendolyn T;
And so, all the night-tide,
I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my
bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by New
York City.