A King in Exile

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 dojust 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 theyd 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.