Good King WenceslasGood 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 know'st 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 St. Agnes fountain Bring me flesh and bring me wine Bring me pine logs hither Thou and I will see Him dine When we bring Him thither Page and monarch forth they went Onward both together Through the rude winds wild lament And the bitter weather Thou shall find the winter's rage Freeze thy blood less coldly In His masters steps He trod Where the snow lay dented 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 In His masters steps He trod Where the snow lay tinted 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
|