The Three Kings


The Three Kings


O balow, balow la lay.


The first king was very young

With doleful ballads on his tongue.

He came bearing a branch of myrrh

Than which no gall is bitterer.


The second king was a man in prime,

The solemn priest of a solemn time.

With eyes downcast and reverent feet

He brought his incense sad and sweet.


The third king was very old,

Both his hands were full of gold,

Many a gaud and a glittering toy,

Baubles brave for a baby boy,

Gifts for a baby king.



         Dorothy L. Sayers