There were no kings at the ****** birth
when angels sang across the earth.
What king would leave their crowns and lands
to follow stars across the sands?
The shepherds came so brave so bold
and left their flocks there in the fold.
They may have brought their dogs along
but this is not told in the song.
The travellers came from the east
to Bethlehem but not to feast.
Not from the north, nor south nor west
they set out on their fateful quest
to see the birth of all that’s best
but did they go with zeal and zest
or were they frightened, scared, distressed?
They brought great gifts to offer there
to that young child in stable bare.
With *** and oxen standing by
and Angels singing from on high
they dropped in homage on the ground
and so: the glory shone around.
But still we wonder who were they
a mystery still unto this day.
Were three Kings kneeling on the hay
as we recall on Christmas Day
or were they savants, Wise Men all
who journeyed long to that small stall,
to see a babe led by a star,
travelling, travelling out so far?
The gifts they brought, if gifts they were,
of Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh,
Strange things to bring a babe new born
on that especial Beth’lem morn.
So will we ever get to know
whence they came from so long ago?
The tale is told each Christmas time
And sung in songs, proclaimed in rhyme.
That on that ancient starry night
a babe was born that brought the light.
With shepherds, ox and *** inside
A lonely byre at Christmas tide.
With advent calendars, each door
Will tell the story less or more.
Becloaked and dust-grimed, starlight led
they journeyed long to that poor shed.
They bent their knee, the babe to see.
and then before the light of day -
they turned around and rode away.
Dec 26, 2025
Dec 26, 2025 at 3:46 PM UTC
There were no kings at the ****** birth
when angels sang across the earth.
What king would leave their crowns and lands
to follow stars across the sands?
The shepherds came so brave so bold
and left their flocks there in the fold.
They may have brought their dogs along
but this is not told in the song.
The travellers came from the east
to Bethlehem but not to feast.
Not from the north, nor south nor west
they set out on their fateful quest
to see the birth of all that’s best
but did they go with zeal and zest
or were they frightened, scared, distressed?
They brought great gifts to offer there
to that young child in stable bare.
With *** and oxen standing by
and Angels singing from on high
they dropped in homage on the ground
and so: the glory shone around.
But still we wonder who were they
a mystery still unto this day.
Were three Kings kneeling on the hay
as we recall on Christmas Day
or were they savants, Wise Men all
who journeyed long to that small stall,
to see a babe led by a star,
travelling, travelling out so far?
The gifts they brought, if gifts they were,
of Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh,
Strange things to bring a babe new born
on that especial Beth’lem morn.
So will we ever get to know
whence they came from so long ago?
The tale is told each Christmas time
And sung in songs, proclaimed in rhyme.
That on that ancient starry night
a babe was born that brought the light.
With shepherds, ox and *** inside
A lonely byre at Christmas tide.
With advent calendars, each door
Will tell the story less or more.
Becloaked and dust-grimed, starlight led
they journeyed long to that poor shed.
They bent their knee, the babe to see.
and then before the light of day -
they turned around and rode away.