We Three Kings

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 light,

star with royal beauty bright,

westward leading, still proceeding,

guide us to thy perfect light.

Born a King on Bethlehem's 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, voices raising,

worshiping God on 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:

Alleluia, Alleluia,

sounds through the earth and skies.