IV.
With such hub and bustle everywhere
How did the three princess-sisters fare?
Mirabelle was filled with wrathful scorn:
"Such a farce," she said, "shouldst not be borne!
How can Father even think to wed
When Mama is hardly one year dead?"
Daramina tossed her pretty curls.
"What a scene!" she cried, "What horrid girls!
Why shouldst we be dressed all black and mean
While these common hussies flaunt and preen?"
Lura gently spoke: "Dear sisters: think!
Poor Papa beneath his grief doth sink.
Surely, when he finds a maid to marry
She must help his tribulations carry."
Mirabelle and Daramina scoffed.
"Thou wouldst see some farm-wench held aloft
Over us - of royal birth and station!
How canst thou applaud such degradation?"
"Nay, I'm certain," Luralai replied,
"Father will select a fitting bride."
But her sisters only mocked her words,
"Aye," quoth they, "quite fit to tend the herds."
But, indeed, they needn't have been vexed,
For it seemed the wedding ring was hexed:
Days turned into weeks and months - but still
No maid could the dead Queen's wish fulfill.
Gradually the long and bustling queue
Shrank and dwindled to a very few.
Then one day, the queue was no more seen.
There was no-one left, and still no Queen.
So the ring was shut inside a case:
On a lofty stand it now kept place.