Good King Wenceslas

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Good King Wenceslas looked out
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On the feast of Stephen
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When the snow lay round about
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Deep and crisp and even

Brightly shown the moon that night
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Though the frost was cruel
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When a poor man came in sight
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Gathering winter fuel


[Verse 2]
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Hither, page, and stand by me
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If thou know it telling:
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Yonder peasant, who is he?
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Where and what his dwelling?
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Sire, he lives a good league hence
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Underneath the mountain
Continúa después del anuncio
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Right against the forest fence
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By Saint Agnes fountain


[Verse 3]
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Bring me flesh, and bring me wine
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Bring me pine logs hither
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Thou and I will see him dine
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When we bear the thither
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Page and monarch, forth they went
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Forth they went together
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Through the rude wind's wild lament
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And the bitter weather


[Verse 4]
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Sire, the night is darker now
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And the wind blows stronger
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Fails my heart, I know not how
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I can go no longer
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Ark my footsteps my good page
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Tread thou in them boldly:
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Thou shalt find the winter's rage
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Freeze thy blood less coldly


[Verse 5]
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In his master's step he trod
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Where the snow lay dented
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Heat was in the very sod
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Which the saint had printed
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Therefore, Christian men, be sure
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Wealth or rank possessing
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Ye who now will bless the poor
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Shall yourselves find ble-essing
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