Father has gone to the mountains for gold

Hid for his baby for ages untold;

He will come home when the wind bloweth cold,

Brother has gone to the mountains to seek

Quartz-gems as rosy as baby’s bright cheek;

He will bring topaz from valley and peak,

Sister has gone to the mountains to bring

All the bright blossoms that wake in the spring;

She will come, blithe as the birdies that sing,

If we forget thou are lent from the skies,

Angels may come from the Father All-Wise,

With a great love shining out of their eyes,