Three wise men and each a king
Come to make Him offering;
Gold, frankincense and myrrh they bring.
Angels sweet
Kiss His feet,
As they sing:
"Hail, Lord and King!"
Telling all mankind the story
Of His wonder and His glory;
_So, mortal, make you humble, too,
To serve Him Who thus served you_.

All else was still. The men sat drinking their hot gin, the children
listened with their heads on one side and the farmer's wife, with her
hands folded over her great lap, sat crying.

The door opened and the Kings stood in the middle of the floor. They were
white with snow and their faces blue with cold; the ice hung from
Grendel's moustache. They looked hard under their hats at the table, the
hearth and the little glasses and at Maarten, who was still standing up.
Wulf made his star turn, Top banged his rumble-pot to time and they sang:

Three Kings came out of the East;
'Twas to comfort Mary....

When the song was ended, each got two little glasses; then they could go.

Grendel cursed aloud.