The Queen of Nineteen Trebles
Over Dwyrenland held sway
And Heimlenholm and Ruddland
And many more to date
Yet, “My kingdom for a sceptre”
She oftentimes would say
And none did understand her,
So grand as she was vague.
For she had a crown of moonstones,
And the mountain leopard’s cape
And in her right hand firmly
Shone the sceptre of her state.
A suitor once ventured to ask:
“My Queen, wherefore this fancy
For that which you already hold,
And with other rods a-plenty?”
That man never appeared again
Before the Queen of Nineteen Trebles,
So the question was forgotten
While the jest kept in the annals.