Luyện nghe bài hát Good King Wenceslas

Good King looked out
On the Feast of
When the snow lay about
and crisp and even

Brightly shone the moon that
the frost was cruel
When a poor man in sight
Gath'ring winter

Hither, page, and by me
If thou it, telling
peasant, who is he?
Where and his dwelling?

Sire, he lives a good league
the mountain
Right the forest fence
By Saint fountain

Sire, the is darker now
And the wind stronger
Fails my heart, I not how
I can go no

my footsteps, my good page
Tread in them boldly
shall find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less

In his master's steps he
the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the sod
the Saint had printed

Therefore, men rejoice
Wealth or rank
Ye, who now will bless the
Shall yourselves find