Three Kings came riding from far away
Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star
The star was so beautiful, large and clear
That all the other stars of the sky
Became a white mist in the atmosphere
And by this they knew that The coming was near
Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy
Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows
Three caskets of gold with golden keys
Their robes were of crimson silk with rows
of bells and pomegranates and furbelows
Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.
<.br>
And so the Three Kings rode into the West
Through the dusk of the night, over hill and dell
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast
And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest
With the people they met at some wayside well.
"Of the child that is born," said Baltasar
"Good people,I pray you, tell us the news
For we in the East have seen his star
And have ridden fast, and have ridden far
To find and worship the King of the Jews."
And the people answered,"You ask in vain
We know of no King but Herod the Great!"
They thought the Wise Men were men insane
as they spurred their horses across the plain,
Like riders in haste, who cannot wait.
And when they came to Jerusalem
Herod the Great, who had heard this thing
Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them
And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem,
And bring me tidings of this new king."
So they rode away; and the star stood still
The only one in the grey of morn;
Yes, it stopped --it stood still of its own free will
Right over Bethlehem on the hill
The city of David, where Christ was born
And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard
Through the silent street, till their horses turned
And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard
But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred
And only a light in the stable burned.
And cradled there in the scented hay
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine
The little child in the manger lay
The child, that would be king one day
Of a kingdom not human, but divine.
His mother Mary of Nazareth
sat watching beside his place of rest
Watching the even flow of his breath
For the joy of life and the terror of death
Were mingled together in her breast.
They laid their offerings at his feet
The gold was their tribute to a King
The frankincense, with its odor sweet
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete
The myrrh for the body's burying.
And the mother wondered and bowed her head
And sat as still as a statue of stone
Her heart was troubled yet comforted
Remembering what the Angel had said
Of an endless reign and of David's throne
Then the Kings rode out of the city gate
With a clatter of hoofs in proud array
But they went not back to Herod the Great
For they knew his malice and feared his hate
And returned to their homes by another way
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Page by Mary Jones
2004
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