Sound the deep drum. The lion I am proud to love Has fallen, that Cormyr may Stand.
Some kings are but old names On crumbling tombs Sounds in a roll chanted at Candlekeep No more. My Azoun shall not be so easily forgotten. Ask any Tuigan. Raise a cup in his memory And be happy, as I am. He was mine, down long golden years The gods granted us that. He was Cormyr's all his years. The gods gave that gift to us all.
Aye, by happy. No tears can bring him back. Why cry now From the gates and the battlements Until all the mountainsides roar back grief's thunder?
My love is gone The sun set over the realm All glory fallen I shall never see Cormyr so bright again.
Her Royal Majesty, Queen Filfaeril |