Good King Wenceslas / Flower Carol

Lyrics

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 gathering 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 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
 Through the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter weather.
 "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 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 shall bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.
 Spring has now unwrapped the flowers, day is fast reviving
 Life in all her growing powers toward the light is striving:
 Gone the iron touch of cold, winter time and frost time,
 Seedlings, working trough the mould, now make up for lost time.
 Herb and plant that, winter long, slumbered at their leisure,
 Now bestirring, green and strong, find in growth their pleasure:
 All the world with beauty fills, gold the green enhancing;
 Flowers make joy among the hills and set the meadows dancing.
 Earth puts on her dress of glee, flowers and grasses hide her;
 We go forth in charity, brothers all beside her;
 For, as man this glory sees in this awakening season,
 Reason learns the heart's decrees and hearts are led by reason.
 Praise the Maker, all ye saints, He with glory girt you,
 He who skies and meadows paints, fashioned all your virtue;
 Praise him, seers, heroes, kings, heralds of perfection;
 Brothers, praise him, for he brings all to resurrection!

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:28
Key
5
Tempo
105 BPM

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