Song of the Magi

Gaspar:
I come from the throne of a golden god,
Whose temple is crowded and cold,
And the moans of the poor is a hymn of praise
Where the favor of god is sold.
Gold is the life of the greedy god
Who would hold all things in his paw
And gold is the gift I give tonight
To the baby who lies in the straw.
He lies asleep, one hand outstretched
(This innocent baby boy)
As if all the wealth of heaven and earth
He had thrown away in His joy.

Malchior:
I come from the throne of a sable god,
Whose temple is dark as the night,
Where god is hid from the people and priest,
Where worship is mystery and fright.
Incense is the life of the secret god
The fragrance of terror and awe,
And incense the gift I give tonight
To the baby who lies in the straw.
In a rough wooden manger, by the oxen and sheep
(This baby for Whom the stars shine)
He lies there asleep, with one hand outstretched
As if to clasp with mine.

Balthazar:
I come from the throne of a crimson god,
Whose temple is noisy with strife;
Where men must die for their god to live
And where hymns are played with a knife.
Myrrh is the life of the bloody god,
The perfume of tooth and claw
And myrrh is the gift I give tonight
To the baby who lies in the straw.
He lies asleep, in this cold, dark place
(This baby in Bethlehem born)
As quiet and still as the sleep of the dead
And His hand is pierce by a thorn.

All three:
We come from the thrones of the ancient gods
Whose temples are older than song,
Where each generation gives up the same prayers
And awaits the same answers as long.
For hope is the curse of the aged gods,
Whose only strength is the law
And hope is the gift we receive this night
From the baby who lies in the straw.
He was born in the dark, at the change of the year
(This boy in a stable of earth)
And He smiles in His sleep, as if the whole world
Had been born anew with His birth.