Twas in the Moon of Wintertime

Verse 1

’Twas in the moon of wintertime when all the birds had fled, that God the Lord of all the earth sent angel choirs instead; before their light the stars grew dim, and wand'ring hunters heard the hymn:

Chorus

Jesus your king is born! Jesus is born, in excelsis gloria!

Verse 2

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:

Verse 3

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 fox and beaver pelt.

Verse 4

O children of the forest free, the angel song is true; 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.