The bright sun shines upon her face,
while loyal subjects admire her grace.
They question "How could we compare to thee?"
No one could compare to her majesty.
She sits alone on her velvet throne,
her pleasant manner has only grown.
There is no sorrow in her eyes,
no tears she has or will ever cry.
But here she sits in her courtly manner,
ignoring all her fears.
It is she the kingdom relies upon,
forced to ignore the tears.