Decemberists, The - The Infanta

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 Concubine
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
all canopied and passenger'd
sit the duke and duchess's luscious young girl

within sight of the Baroness
seething spite for this lithe largess
by her side sits the Baron--her barren-ness barbs her

and we'll all come praise the Infanta
and we'll all come praise the Infanta

a phalanx on camel back!
thirty ranks on a forward tack
follow close, their shiny bright standards a-waving!

while behind in their coach-and-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 paraphets blow a multitude of coronets
melodies rhapsodical and fair!
and all our hearts afire, the sky ablaze with cannonfire
we raise our voices to the air
to the air

and above all this folderol
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