|We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts; we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
|Born a king on Bethlehem's plain,
Gold I bring to crown Him again,
King forever, ceasing never
Over us all to reign.
|Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom:
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone cold tomb.
|O star of wonder, star of night,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to Thy perfect light.
|Frankincense to offer have I;
Incense owns a Deity nigh;
Prayer and praising all men raising,
Worship Him, God on high.
|Glorious now behold Him arise,
King and God and Sacrifice;
Sounds through the earth and skies.