John Henry Hopkins, Jr.
We Three Kings of Orient are; bearing gifts we traverse afar.
Field and fountain, moor and mountain, following yonder Star.
REF: 0, 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’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 worshipping 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!