Good King Wenceslas

Good King Wenceslas - Bing Crosby (平克·劳斯)

Good 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

And stand Hither page by me

If thou knowst 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 shall see him dine

When we bear them thither

Page and monarch forth they went

Forth they went together

Through the rude winds 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 winters rage

Freeze thy blood less coldly

In his masters 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