Rest now, Richard; winter's coming
summer's Prince gives way to fall.
Lie your coronet aside and
wait the winter in your hall.
Your reign started cold as winter
turned to springtime's shining sun
Warm as Carrine's gentle graces
who holds your heart, fairly won
Rest now, Richard; till we call you
you'll not on your laurels lie
We'll call you back for future service
Old Mists Princes never die.
Written at/for Mists Fall Investiture:
"This one really was blind luck. I had written this piece just in case the outgoing Prince, Richard Greyfalle, asked me to perform. He didn't, so I thought it would just sit there. Then he won the champion's tournament that afternoon. I didn't even need to change the ending." -- Margrethe Astrid Ravn
The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).