O’er the hill and o’er the vale
                                        
                                        Come three kings together,
                                        
                                        Caring nought for snow and hail,
                                        
                                        Cold, and wind, and weather;
                                        
                                        Now on Persia’s sandy plains,
                                        
                                        Now where Tigris swells with rains,
                                        
                                        They their camels tether;
                                        
                                        Now through Syrian lands they go,
                                        
                                        Now through Moab, faint and slow,
                                        
                                        Now through Edom’s heather.