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.


Text and Tune:  John H. Hopkins, Jr.