’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 wond’ring 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
Enwrapped His beauty round.
The chiefs from far before him knelt
With gifts of fox and beaver pelt.
O children of the forest free,
O sons of Manitou,
The Holy Child of earth and heav’n
Is born today for you.
Come kneel before the radiant Boy
Who brings you beauty, peace and joy.
provided by Julie Pyle of Wilbur, WA