'Twas in the moon of wintertime

When all the birds had fled

That mighty Gitchi Manitou

Sent angel choirs instead

Before their light the stars grew dim

And wandering hunters heard the hymn



Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born

In excelsis gloria



Within a lodge of broken bark

The tender Babe was found

A ragged robe of rabbit skin

Enwrapp'd His beauty round

And as the hunter braves drew nigh

The angel song rang loud and high



Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born

In excelsis gloria



The earliest moon of wintertime

Is not so round and fair

As was the ring of glory

On the helpless infant there

The chiefs from far before him knelt

With gifts of fur and beaver pelt



Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born

In excelsis gloria



O children of the forest free

O sons of Manitou

The Holy Child of earth and heaven

Is born today for you

Come kneel before the radiant Boy

Who brings you beauty, peace and joy



Jesus your King is born, Jesus is born

In excelsis gloria