Testo Good King Wenceslas / Flower Carol - Heather Dale
Testo della canzone Good King Wenceslas / Flower Carol (Heather Dale), tratta dall'album This Endris Night
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!
Credits
Writer(s): Traditional Song, Heather M. Dale
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