She knows her love will never return, so through the wind she softly calls, her leap of faith was grace magnificent, her ghost still walks the castle walls. The forest below wails sylvan grief, at the end of a life so sweetly pure, a Springtime leaf fall marks the day, when Lady Amarylis breathed no more. A single rose now spends its days beneath the walls its love displayed, and come the wind it gently sways, hoping to catch that faraway call, perchance to answer with tidings sore, The Lady Amarylis breathes no more.