V.
Winter came, and with it deepest snow.
O'er the lands a bitter wind didst blow,
Penetrating through the castle walls,
Bringing ghostly echoes to its halls.
Lura watched the world through frosty glass.
Slowly, slowly seemed the months to pass.
"Poor papa," she sighed, "grows worse and worse
Wasting under Melancholy's curse:
'Tis too bad no new Queen could be found.
Aye, I fear, his heart is in the ground
With my mother. He didst love her so...
How canst he be cured of his woe?
Grief so often doth to madness bind."
- Thus she worried for her father's mind.
Where could Lura go to counsel seek?
Rarely did her sisters with her speak,
Seldom did she see another friend:
Most were gone until the winter's end.
So young Lura wandered on her own
Through the silent chambers, quite alone,
Waiting anxiously for coming spring
Whence might come some succour for the King.
One day, Lura passed the great Throne Room,
There she heard a noise within its gloom!
"Who is there?" she wondered, turning pale,
"It's been shut ere father's health did fail."
Cautiously she pushed the oak doors wide,
Swiftly, silently she slipped inside.
Near the empty thrones, the shadows stirred -
Was that laughter Luralai now heard?
Who was there? What ghost? What strange, fell thing?...
'Twas her sisters trying on the ring!