They felt the new force within them Through fellowship increase: The one he called it beauty, The other named it peace. All through the silent night-tide Their thoughts one burden bore: There was a joy eternal Their longing souls before. But still they waited, waited, They hardly knew what for. "What lack we yet, O Gaspar!" At length asked Melchior. "Three lights in yonder heaven Wait on the polar star. Hast eyes to read the poem? Dost see how calm they are? _Three_ lights in yonder heaven Wait on the polar star; But we are _two_," said Gaspar. "Not _two_, but _three_ we are," Belthazzar said, dismounting, Another king from far; "And we whom God hath chosen Follow a greater Star. O, what are peace and beauty, Except they stir the soul And make the man a hero, To gain some happier goal? O, what are peace and beauty That stop this side of God, Though infinite the distance Remaining to be trod?" In haste, in haste they mounted, The kings in God's employ, And quickly peace and beauty Began to change to joy. They left behind their kingdoms Whose lure was far too small, To keep them apart from the kingdom Of Him who is all in all. They left behind their people, Of loving and loved a host, The first of the thronging Gentiles, To love the Redeemer most. They left behind possessions, Their flocks in all their prime, In haste to greet the Shepherd Whose charge is the most sublime. They passed through hostile regions; For fear they halted not; And weariness and hunger Were less than things forgot. So on and on they hastened Where they never before had trod, And the flaming Guide that led them, Was ever the Glory of God. By night in yonder heavens, Within their hearts by day, As of old the blessed Shekinah Along the Red Sea way. And they have troubled Herod And left Jerusalem, The joy-giving Star before them, The Star of Bethlehem. And they have seen and worshiped The Everlasting Child, In whom sweet Truth and Mercy Were never unreconciled. They have kissed the Beauty of Heaven, Incarnate on the earth, The Babe in the lap of Mary, Of whom He came to his birth. Their gifts of love they have rendered Unto the new-born King, Their gold and myrrh and frankincense, The best that they could bring. And vanished the Star forever, When they turned from the Child away? Shone it not then in their bosoms, The light of Eternal Day? They could not return to Herod-- Too precious for any swine, The pearls which they had gathered Out of the Sea Divine!