e for me,
And carry me my golden gifts
To the King o' Galilee.

"Go riding into Palestine,
A long ride and a fair!"
"'Tis well!" the Mages answered him,
"As well as anywhere!"

They rode by day, they rode by night,
The stars came out on high,--
"And, oh!" said King Balthazar,
As he gazed into the sky,

"We ride by day, we ride by night,
To a King in Galilee;
We leave a king in Persia,
And kings no less are we.

"Yet often in the deep blue night,
When stars burn far and dim,
I wish I knew a greater King,
To fall and worship him.

"A king who should not care to reign,
But wonderful and fair;
A king--a king that were a star
Aloft in miles of air!"

"A star is good," said Melchior,
"A high, unworldly thing;
But I would choose a soul alive
To be my Lord and King.

"Not Herod, nay, nor Cyrus, nay,
Not any king at all;
For I would choose a new-born child
Laid in a manger-stall."

"'Tis well," the black King Casper cried,
"For mighty men are ye;
But no such humble king were meet
For my simplicity.

"A star is small and very far,
A babe's a simple thing;
The very Son of God himself
Shall be my Lord and King!"

Then smiled the King Balthazar;
"A good youth!" Melchior cried;
And young and old, without a word,
Along the hills they ride,

Till, lo! among the western skies
There grows a shining thing--
"The star! Behold the star," they shout;
"Behold Balthazar's King!"

And, lo! within the western skies
The star begins to flit;
The three kings spur their horses on,
And follow after it.

And when they reach the king's palace,
They cry, "Behold the place!"
But, like a shining bird, the star
Flits on in heaven apace.

Oh they rode on, and on they rode,
Till they reached a lonely wold,
Where shepherds keep their flocks by night,
And the night was chill and cold.

Oh they rode on, and on they rode,
Till they reach a little town,
And there the star in heaven stands still
Above a stable brown.

The town is hardly a village,
The stable's old and poor,
But there the star in heaven stands still
Above the stable door.

And through the open door, the straw
And the tired beasts they see;
And the Babe, laid in a manger,
That sleepeth peacefully.

"All hail, the King of Melchior!"
The