Good king wenceslas
 
  
  Good king wenceslas looked out
 
 On the feast of stephen
 
 When the snow lay 'round about
 
 Deep and crisp and even
 
 Though the frost was cruel
 
 When a poor man came in sight
 
 Gath'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
 
 By saint agnes' fountain."
  
 
 "bring me flesh and bring me wine
 
 Bring me pine-logs hither
 
 Thou and i shall see him dine
 
 When we bear them 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 footsteps, good my page
 
 Tread thou in them boldly
 
 Thou shall find the winter's rage
 
 Freeze thy blood less coldly."
  
 
 In his master's step he trod
 
 Where the snow lay dinted
 
 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.