Good King Wenceslas

Good King Wenceslas look out
on the least of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the mopn that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Garth'ring 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 Saint Agnes'fountain.

Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will see him dine
When 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 footstep,my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
Freeze the blood less coldly.

In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat wad in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore. Christmas man,be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.