'Twas in the moon of winter time,
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:

(Refrain)
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
Enwraped his beauty round;
But as the hunter braves drew night
The angel song rang loud and high:

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:

To Jesus, from the ends of earth,
Three wise men came this day.
To him they brought their precious gifts,
Before him they did pray.
Like them we come to thee, O Son:
Like them with joy we kneel before thee.

All praise to thee, O Son of God,
All glory to thy name!
O'er all this world thy people sing,
Thy blessed birth acclaim!
With them, we come to thee, O Son;'
Like them, with joy we kneel before thee.