Deck the halls with boughs of holly,
Fa la la la la la la la la
"Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Don we now our gay apparel,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Troll the ancient yuletide carol
Fa la la la la la la la la

See the blazing yule before us,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Strike the harp and join the chorus,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Follow me in merry measure,
Fa la la la la la la la la
While I tell of Christmas treasure,
Fa la la la la la la la la

Fast away the old year passes,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Hail the new ye! lads and lasses,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Sing we joyous all together,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Heedless of the wind and weather,
Fa la la la la la la la la

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,
Gath'ring winter fuel.

Hither, page , and stand by me,
If thou know's it's 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 shall see him dine,
When we bear them thither.
Age and monarch, forth the 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 grows 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 will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.