Luyện nghe bài hát Good King Wenceslas

Good King looked out
on the of Stephen,
when the lay round about,
deep and and even.
Brightly the moon that night,
the frost was cruel,
when a poor man in sight,
gathering fuel.

Hither, page, and by me.
If thou know it
peasant, who is he?
Where and his dwelling?
Sire, he a good league hence,
the mountain,
right against the forest
by Saint fountain.

me flesh, and bring me wine.
Bring me pine hither.
Thou and I see him dine
we bear them thither.
Page and monarch, forth went,
forth they together
through the wind's wild lament
and the weather.

Sire, the night is now,
and the wind stronger.
my heart, I know not how -
I can go no longer.
Mark my good, my page,
thou in them boldly:
Thou shalt the winter's rage
thy blood less coldly.

In his master's he trod,
the snow lay dented.
Heat was in the sod
the saint had printed.
Therefore, men, be sure,
or rank possessing,
ye who now bless the poor
yourselves find blessing