'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