A Ballad of Wise Men

When that our gen­tle Lord was born

And cra­dled in the hay

There rode three wise men from the east—

Three rich wise men were they—

All in the star­ry night they came

Their hom­age gifts to pay.

They got them down from cam­el-back

The cat­tle shed be­fore

And in the dark­ness vain­ly sought

A great latch on the door;

Ho

this is strange

quoth Bal­tha­zar

Aye

strange

quoth Mel­chi­or.

Quoth Gas­par

I can find no hasp

Well hidd­en is the lock;

The door

quoth Mel­ch­ior

is stout

And fast

our skill to mock;

Quoth Balthazar

The lit­tle King

Might wake

we dare not knock.

The three wise men they sat them down

To wait for morn­ing dawn

The cun­ning wards of that old door

They thought and mar­veled on;

Quoth they

No gate in all the East

Hath bar-bolts tight­er drawn.

Anon there came a lit­tle lad

With lamb­skins for the King

He had no key

he raised no latch

He touched no hid­den spring

But gent­ly pushed the si­lent door

And op­en it gan swing.

A mi­ra­cle! a mi­ra­cle!

Cried out the wise men three;

A lit­tle child hath solved the locks

That could not op­ened be.

In won­der spake the shep­herd lad

It hath no locks

quoth he.