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