Words: , cir­ca 450 (Hos­tis He­rod­es im­pie); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by and the com­pil­ers of Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern.

Music: Ely, , 1844.


How vain the cruel Herod’s fear,
When told that Christ the King is near!
He takes not earthly realms away,
Who gives the realms that ne’er decay.

The Eastern sages saw from far
And followed on His guiding star;
By light their way to Light they trod,
And by their gifts confessed their God.

Within the Jordan’s sacred flood
The heavenly Lamb in meekness stood,
That He to Whom no sin was known,
Might cleanse His people from their own.

And oh, what miracle divine,
When water reddened into wine!
He spake the word, and forth it flowed
In streams that nature ne’er bestowed.

All glory, Jesu, be to Thee
For this Thy glad Epiphany:
Whom with the Father we adore
And Holy Ghost forevermore.