The Huron Carol
 

‘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 wondering hunters heard the hymn:

Chorus:

     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;
But as the hunter braves drew nigh,
The angel song rang loud and high:

Oh children of the forest free,
Oh 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:
 
 

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