First Verse
Good King Wen-ces-las look out, On the Feast of Ste-phen,
When the snow lay round a-bout, Deep, and crisp, and e-ven:
Bright-ly shone the moon that night, Though the frost was cru-el,
When a poor man came in sight, Ga-th'ring win-ter  fu - el.

Second Verse
"Hi-ther, page, and stand by me, If thou know'st it, tell-ing,
Yon-der pea-sant, who is he? Where and what his dwell-ing?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence, Un-der-neath the moun-tain,
Right a-gainst the fo-rest fence, By Saint Ag-nes foun-tain."

Third Verse [from my songbook]
"Sire, the night is dark-er now, And the wind blows strong-er;
Fails my heart, I know not how, I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, good my page! Tread thou in them boldly:
Thou shalt find the winter's rage, Freeze thy blood less coldly."

Third Verse [submitted 10/11/01]
Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, 
Bring me pine logs hither: 
Thou and I will see him dine, 
When we bear them thither."; 
Page and monarch, forth they went, 
Forth they went together; 
Thro' the rude wind's wild lament 
And the bitter weather. 

Fourth Verse
In his mas-ter's steps he trod, Where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod, Which the saint had printed.
There-fore, Christian men, be sure, Wealth or rank posess-ing,
Ye who now will bless the poor, Shall yourselves find blessing.
Updated 10.11.01