O’er the hill and o’er the vale
Come three kings to­ge­ther,
Caring naught for snow and hail,
Cold, and wind, and wea­ther;
Now on Per­sia’s sandy plains,
Now where Ti­gris swells with rains,
They their ca­mels tether;
Now through Sy­ri­an lands they go,
Now through Mo­ab, faint and slow,
Now through Ed­om’s hea­ther.

O’er the hill and o’er the vale,
Each king bears a pre­sent:
Wise men go a Child to hail,
Monarchs seek a pea­sant;
And a star in front pro­ceeds,
Over rocks and ri­vers leads,
Shines with beams in­ces­sant.
Therefore on­ward, on­ward still!
Ford the stream and climb the hills:
Love makes all things plea­sant.

He is God ye go to meet;
Therefore in­cense prof­fer.
He is King ye go to greet:
Gold is in your cof­fer.
Also Man He comes to share
Every woe that man can bear:
Tempter, rail­er, scof­fer;
Therefore now against the day,
In the grave where Him they lay,
Myrrh ye also of­fer.