George and Helen emain 'tis known
Beneath that verdant pasture, the wooded hills
In the morning shadow of Mount Whiteface
And in the evening of Chocorua. And the brook chatters by
Easy to hear from the Wonalancet graveyard.
The wine bottle a sentinel, the glasses a memory of the gay times
Passed in Greenpeace. Sons, daughters, sons and daughters of
Sons and Daughters will resurrect the spirits of bygone years
And all will be merry again.