


       

                 Good King Wenceslas
                Neale/Traditional, 1853






               Everyone
Good King Wenceslas looked out 
   on the Feast of Stephen,
Where 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.




                   King
Hither, page, and stand by me, 
   if thou know'st it telling
Yonder peasant: who is he, 
   where and what his dwelling?
                  Page
Sire, he lives a good league hence, 
   underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence, 
   by Saint Agnes' fountain.



                  King
Bring me flesh and bring me wine, 
   bring me pine logs hither.
Thou and I will see him dine, 
   when we bear them thither.
              Everyone
Page and monarch forth they went, 
   forth they went together.
Through the rude wind's wild lament 
   and the bitter weather.



                   Page               
Sire, the night is darker now, 
   and the wind blows stronger.
Fails my heart, I know not how 
   I can go on longer.
                   King
Mark my footsteps, my good page, 
   tread thou in them boldly.
Thou shalt find the winter's rage 
   freeze thy blood less coldly.



                Everyone
In his master's steps he trod 
   where the snow lay dinted.
Heat was in the very sod 
   which the Saint had printed.
Therefore, everyone, be sure, 
   wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now shall bless the poor, 
   shall yourselves find blessing.



 
