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
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

Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes' fountain."


"Bring me bread 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


In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod

Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, every men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing

Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing


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
Gath'ring winter fuel