In old Chroyane, that festive city fair, The maids arrived in bright and silken gowns, And dreamt of knights who praised their beauty there, Within Love’s Palace, wreath'd in flowers and crowns. Yet all her towers fell, her gardens died, The river sighed through long-forsaken wynds; But hope endured when faithful hearts allied, And sought new shores where faith repairs and binds. Beneath the sun, where desert met the sea, A princess wed a noble lord of Dorne; There bitter grief was turned to sweet decree, And exiles rooted where their love was sworn. Chroyane is gone, yet love shall still abide; May joy attend upon the maiden’s side!
