O’er Bethl’hem’s hill, in time of old,
Came wise men from afar,
Bringing their cost­ly gifts of gold,
For they had seen His star.
In prince­ly pomp, with pre­sents meet,
They came to wor­ship at His feet.

The sil­very lamp thro’ all the night
Led on their ea­ger way,
Until up­on His low­ly home
Was shed its gen­tle ray;
And there they found the in­fant King,
And on the ground fell wor­ship­ing.

So, gra­cious Spir­it, by Thy light,
Shine Thou up­on our way;
To guide our feet to Christ the Lord,
Who would our hom­age pay;
For He who is the child­ren’s king
Will not disdain what child­ren bring.

For gifts, we give our­selves to Thee,
Our hearts shall be Thy throne;
For gold, we give Thee all our love,
O make it all Thine own!
As incense sweet Thy praise we sing,
And bless Thy name, our Sav­ior King.