Here she comes in her palanquin
On the back of an elephant
On a bed made of linen and sequins and silk

All astride on her father's line
With the king and his concubines
And her nurse with her pitchers of liquors and milk

And we'll all come praise the infanta
And we'll all come praise the infanta


Among five score pachyderm
Each canopied and passengered
Sit the duke and the duchess' luscious young girls

Within sight of the baronness
Seething spite for this live largesse
By her side sits the baron

Her barrenness barbs her
And we'll all come praise the infanta
And we'll all come praise the infanta


A phalanx on camelback
Thirty ranks on a forward tack

Followed close, their shiny bright standards a-waving
While behind in their coach, in fours
Ride the wives of the king of Moors

And the veiled young virgin, the prince's betrothed
And we'll all come praise the infanta
And we'll all come praise the infanta


And as she sits upon her place
Her innocence laid on her face

From all atop the parapets blow a multitude of coronets
Melodies rhapsodical and fair
And all our hearts afire

The sky ablaze with cannon fire
We all raise our voices to the air
To the air...


And above all this falderal
On a bed made of chaparral

She is laid, a coronal placed on her brow
And the babe, all in slumber dreams
Of a place filled with quiet streams

And the lake where her cradle was pulled from the water
And we'll all come praise the infanta
And we'll all come praise the infanta