Good King Wenceslas (picture from here) is one of my favourites. In recent years I've discovered a jaunty folk version sung by Ian Giles that I really like as well as the more traditional choral versions. I don't really care that there may never have been a Wenceslas or if there was, he wasn't a particularly charitable person. I love the rhythm of this carol & I often find I'm humming it all through December.
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,
Thought the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight,
Gathering winter fuel.
'Hither, page, and stand by me,
If though knowst it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
'Sire, he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain,
Close against the forest fence
By St Agnes' fountain.'
'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 on they went
On they went together,
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather.
'Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind grows 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 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 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.
0 Comments