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We three kings of Orient are 
Bearing gifts we traverse afar. 
Field and fountain, moor and mountain, 
Following yonder star. 

O star of wonder, star of night, 
Star with royal beauty bright, 
Westward leading, still proceeding, 
Guide us to thy perfect Light. 

Born a king on Bethlehem's plain, 
Gold I bring to crown Him again, 
King forever, ceasing never 
Over us all to reign.

Frankincense to offer have I. 
Incense owns a Deity nigh. 
Prayer and praising all men raising, 
Worship Him, God on high.

Myrrh is mine: it's bitter perfume 
Breathes a life of gathering gloom. 
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying, 
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb.

Glorious now behold Him arise, 
King and God and Sacrifice. 
Alleluia, alleluia! 
Sounds through the earth and skies.

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