Good King Wenceslas

 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 cruel,
 When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring 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, 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.

 Tempus adest floridum, surgunt namque flores
 Vernales in omnibus, imitantur mores
 Hoc quod frigus laeserat, reparant calores
 Cernimus hoc fieri, per multos labores.

 Sunt prata plena floribus, iucunda aspectu
 Ubi iuvat cernere, herbas cum delectu
 Gramina et plantae hyeme quiescunt
 Vernali in tempore virent et accrescunt.


 Haec vobis pulchre monstrant Deum creatorem
 Quem quoque nos credimus omnium factorem
 O tempus ergo hilare, quo laetari libet
 Renovato nam mundo, nos novari decet.

 Terra ornatur floribus et multo decore
 Nos honestis moribus et vero amore
 Gaudeamus igitur tempore iucundo
 Laudemusque Dominum pectoris ex fundo.