'When I die, I want to die dancing,'
that was her motto,
so we erected a gallows
beside the old bandstand
and Myrtle, still dancing,
dragged there by a pair of us,
still kicking and writhing,
still singing: 'Release me!'
was slipped through the noose,
was gagged by the gallowsboy,
was bound by the wrists
with her feet hanging free,
was cheered by the townsfolk,
door swinging wide under her,
died dancing on thin air,
a jubilant jig.
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