The Good King

Funny--anymore, I don't consider the lyrics to this song to be obscure. Then again, I can't really imagine that there are too many people right now who go around singing all of "Good King Wenceslas."

Which I say is a shame. Because it's a relatively fun, if archaic, song. And it can be a fun parlor game (parlor? like I said, archaic) to sing in parts. It's supposed to have three parts - deep, manly voices sing the king's lines; high, girly voices sing the lines of the page; and a more centered voice sings the rest of the song as the narrator. Or you could do it in just two parts, where both the manly & the girly voices combine to sing the narrator's parts together.

I know this makes me a dork, but I seriously want to write the lyrics up on some cue cards (you know, maybe use different colors for each part), and teach peeps how to sing this song all together... ah, holiday cheer! Here's how I'd break it up & write it out, in case you'd like to try it too:

Narrator:
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, tho' the frost was cru-el,
When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fu-oo-el.

King:
"Hither, page, and stand by me, if thou know'st it, tell me,
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what's his dwelling?"

Page:
"Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes' fou-ou-ntain."

King:
"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither:
Thou and I shall see him dine, when we bear them thither."

Narrator:
Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together;
Thru the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter wea-ea-ther.

Page:
"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger;
Fail my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer."

King:
"Mark my footsteps, my good page. Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less co-ol-dly."

Narrator:
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 ble-ess-sing.

Interestingly enough (or not), the song is based on the legend of St. Wenceslas, who was actually a duke near Prague. I think the story is a really sweet one for Christmas (Wiki notes that the Feast of Stephen is actually the 2nd day of Christmas...). And here's a poetic rewrite of the story, if you'd like to hear it in other words. Here's the best part of the poem version if you don't want to read the whole thing, a rephrasing of the moral:

So let us all, like this obscure Czech king,
Go extra miles to do the decent thing.