Classic Poem

Star of the East! whose silver ray
Was erst the faithful Gentile's guide,
Star of our souls! look down to-day,
And lead us to Thy cradle side.

Hither of old the wise men bore
Gift for a God, their incense sweet,
A monarch's tribute golden ore,
And balmy myrrh for victim meet.

Here, too, our hearts would pause awhile,
Sweet source of love and mercy free,
Would linger in Thy cradle smile,
And lift the voice and bend the knee.

O Christ our God, Thy name we own,
The highest name in earth or Heaven,
O Christ our King, to Thee alone
The homage of our hearts be given.

O Christ our Saviour, who didst bow
For us Thy sinless victim head,
To wear the thorn wreath on Thy brow,
To be embalm'd amid the dead;

We follow where our Fathers trod,
We open too our treasure store,
Redeemer, Monarch, Mighty God,
Save, guide us, keep us evermore.