O THE Queen may keep her golden Crown and sceptre of command! I would give them both twice over To be King of Babyland. Sure, it is a wondrous country Where the beanstalks grow apace, And so very near the moon is You could almost stroke her face. And the dwellers in that country Hold in such esteem their King, They believe that if he chooses He can do?just anything! And, although his regal stature May be only four-feet-ten, Think him tallest, strongest, bravest, Noblest, wisest, best of men. Ah, how fondly I remember The good time serene and fair, In the bygone years when I, too, Was a reigning monarch there! But my subjects they discrowned me When they?d older, colder, grown; And they took away my sceptre, And upset my royal throne. Yet, although a King in Exile, Without subjects to command, I am glad at heart to think I Once was King of Babyland.