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180426271.gif
Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay 'round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gathering winter fuel
Hither, page and stand by me
If thou knows it telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?
Sire, he lives a good league hence
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes's fountain
Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me fur logs, hither
Thou and I will see him dine
Here we bear him thither
Page and monarch, forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather
Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how
I can go no longer
Mark my footsteps, good my page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shall find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly
In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye, who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing
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Shall yourselves find blessing
Ye, who now will bless the poor
Wealth or rank possessing
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Which the Saint had printed
Heat was in the very sod
Where the snow lay dinted
In his master's steps he trod
Freeze thy blood less coldly
Thou shall find the winter's rage
Tread thou in them boldly
Mark my footsteps, good my page
I can go no longer
Fails my heart, I know not how
And the wind blows stronger
Sire, the night is darker now
And the bitter weather
Through the rude wind's wild lament
Forth they went together
Page and monarch, forth they went
Here we bear him thither
Thou and I will see him dine
Bring me fur logs, hither
Bring me flesh and bring me wine
By Saint Agnes's fountain
Right against the forest fence
Underneath the mountain
Sire, he lives a good league hence
Where and what his dwelling?
Yonder peasant, who is he?
If thou knows it telling
Hither, page and stand by me
Gathering winter fuel
When a poor man came in sight
Though the frost was cruel
Brightly shone the moon that night
Deep and crisp and even
When the snow lay 'round about
On the feast of Stephen
Good King Wenceslas looked out
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