Good King Wenceslas
ALL:
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 site,
Gathering winter fuel.
KING:
Hither page and stand by me!
I you know it telling:
Yonder man who is he,
Where and what his dwelling?
PAGE:
Sir he lives a good way hence,
Underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence,
By Saint Agnes' fountain:
KING:
Bring me food and bring me wine,
Bring me pine logs hither:
You and I will see him dine,
When we take them thither.
ALL:
Page and monarch forth they went,
Forth they went together,
Through the wild wind's loud lament,
And the bitter weather.
PAGE:
Sir the night is darker now,
And the wind grows stronger;
Fails my heart - I know not how,
I can go no longer.
KING:
Mark my footsteps well my page,
Follow in them boldly:
You shall find the winter's rage,
Chills your blood less coldly.
ALL:
In his masters steps he trod,
Where the snow lay even,
Strong to do the will of God,
In the hope of Heaven:
Therefore Christians all be sure,
Grace and wealth possessing,
You that now will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.
Words: John Mason Neale.
