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'Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled |
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That mighty |
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Gitchi Manitou sent angel choirs instead; |
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Before their light the stars grew dim and wondering hunters heard the hymn, |
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Jesus your |
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King is born, |
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Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria. |
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Within a lodge of broken bark the tender babe was found; |
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A ragged robe of rabbit skin enwrapped his beauty round |
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But as the hunter braves drew nigh the angel song rang loud and high |
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Jesus your |
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King is born, |
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Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria. |
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The earliest moon of wintertime is not so round and fair |
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As was the ring of glory on the helpless infant there. |
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The chiefs from far before him knelt with gifts of fox and beaver pelt. |
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Jesus your |
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King is born, |
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Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria. |
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O children of the forest free, |
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O seed of |
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ManitouThe holy |
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Child of earth and heaven is born today for you. |
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Come kneel before the radiant boy who brings you beauty peace and joy. |
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Jesus your |
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King is born, |
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Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria. |
