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