Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness and
lend us Thine aid;
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our
infant Redeemer is laid.
Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining;
Low lies His head with the
beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Monarch and Savior of all!
Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom and offerings
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the
forest, or gold from the mine?
Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would His favor
Richer by far is the heart’s adoration,
Dearer to God are the
prayers of the poor.