Classic Poem

The wise men to Thy cradle throne,
O Infant Saviour, brought of old
The incense meet for God alone,
Sharp myrrh, and shining gold.

Shine on us too, sweet eastern star,
Thine own baptized Gentile band,
Till we have found our Lord from far,
An offering in our hand;

Till we have brought the fine gold rare
Of zeal that giveth all for love,
Till we have pray'd the glowing prayer,
Like incense borne above;

Till bitter tears our eyes have wet,
Because our wilful hearts would err,
Worship, and love, and sorrow met —
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

All meet for Thee, our own Adored,
Our suffering Saviour, God and King,
Accept the gold and incense, Lord,
Accept the myrrh we bring.