Loreena Mckennitt - Good King Wenceslas

　　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."

　　"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, my good page

　　Tread thou in them boldly

　　Thou shall find the winter's rage

　　Freeze thy blood less coldly."

　　In his master's 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.

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