Three kings came a-riding
Through tempest and through cold;
Their coats were of the silken thread,
Their crowns were beaten gold.
A star shone in the sky before,
The storm it rolled behind,
And as they rode their cloaks drew out
Like clouds along the wind.

Three shepherds left their shivering flocks,
Came stumbling through the night;
The song of angels drowned their ears,
Their eyes were blind with light.
They groped along the courtyard wall,
Unpinned the stable door,
Then halted all with steaming breath
To stare upon the floor.

Three strangers lodged within the barn
That night of frost and storm,
With ox and ass for company
And straw to keep them warm.
One stranger stood with hand on stall,
One knelt in folds of blue,
And one there lay in shadowed sleep
As mortal children do.

The halted shepherds bowed the head,
The kings they bent the knee,
And marvelling they worshipped there
I silence, three by three.
The tempest fell; a cock crowed thrice;
The shepherds’ task was done.
The kings re-mounted in a dream
And rode towards the sun.