Fireside Singers
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 sightGath'ring winter fu-you-elHither, page, and stand by meIf thou knowst it tellingYonder peasant, who is he?Where and what his dwelling? Sire, he lives a good league henceUnderneath the mountainRight against the forest fenceBy Saint Agnes fou-ountainIn his master's steps 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 ble-essing
From Letras Mania