We rode all night through fields of darkness,
Our guiding light, the eastern stars;
We came to Bethlehem, we all were weary:
We’d travelled far that night, we’d travelled far.
We heard that here we’d find Messiah
Foretold by seers from days of old;
We looked for palaces, and found a stable;
Could it be here, so bare and cold?
We entered in and there we saw Him;
It seemed we’d known Him from long before.
A Child like any child, yet somehow different:
The face of every child in Him we saw.
We brought Him gifts and now we offer them,
We knelt down low in silent prayer.
With eyes that seem to know both joy and sadness,
The Child looked down as we knelt there.
So long ago, yet I remember,
That Child who lay at Mary’s knee.
How strange that every child seemed so much like Him
His is the face I seem to see.
bluebird of bitterness 
There may be grinchy purists who dislike having a light instrumental accompaniment to a song that is basically a cappella. Glad I am not a purist.
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