Brightest and best of the stars 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,
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all.
Shall we then yield him, in costly devotion,
odours of Edom, and offerings divine,
gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean,
myrrh from the forest, and gold from the mine?