Good King Wenceslas look′d 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

Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know now how
I can go no longer
Mark my footsteps, my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter′s rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly


In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in thе very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Thеrefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing
We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star

Oh, star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy perfect light

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o'er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains

Gloria, in excelsis Deo