We Three Kings

We three kings of Orient are,
Bearing gifts we traverse far
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder Star.

Oh, star of wonder, star of might,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to the perfect light.

Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom,
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.

Oh, star, etc.

Glorious now behold Him rise,
King and God and Sacrifice;
Heaven sings "Hallelujah!"
"Hallelujah!" earth replies.

Oh, star, etc.

John H. Hopkins, Jr.