We three kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar, Field and fountain, morr and mountain, Following yonder Star. Chorus: O, star of wonder, star of might, Star with royal beauty bright, Westward leading, still proceeding, Guide us to the perfect light. Born a babe on Bethlehem's plain; Gold we bring to crown Him again; King forever, ceasing never, Over us all to reign. Chorus Frankincense to offer have I; Incense owns a Deity nigh; Prayer and praising, all men raising, Worship Him, God on High. Chorus Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume Breathes a life of gathering gloom; Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, Seal'd in the stone-cold tomb. Chorus Glorious now behold Him arise, King and God and sacrifice, Heaven sings, "Hallelujah!" Hallejujah!" Earth replies. Chorus