Bing Crosby
Good King Wenceslas
Good King Wenceslas looked outOn the Feast of StephenWhen the snow lay round aboutDeep and crisp and evenBrightly shone the moon that nightThough the frost was cruelWhen a poor man came in sightGathering winter fuelHither, page, and stand by me,If thou knowst it, tellingYonder peasant, who is he?Where and what his dwelling?Sire, he lives a good league hence,Underneath the mountainRight against the forest fenceBy Saint Agnes fountain.Bring me flesh and bring me wineBring me pine logs hitherThou and I shall see him dineWhen we bear them thither.Page and monarch, forth they wentForth they went togetherThrough the rude winds wild lamentAnd the bitter weatherLetras de cancionesSire, the night is darker nowAnd the wind blows strongerFails my heart, I know not howI can go no longer.Mark my footsteps, good my pageTread thou in them boldlyThou shall find the winters rageFreeze thy blood less coldly.In his masters step he trodWhere the snow lay dintedHeat was in the very sodWhich the Saint had printedTherefore, Christian men, be sureWealth or rank possessingYe, who now will bless the poorShall yourselves find blessing.
From Letras Mania