The black swans flew across the sky,
The wild dogs called across the plain,
The starry lustre blazed on high,
Still echoed on the Heavenly strain;
And still they sang "Noel! Noel!",
Those drovers three, "Noel! Noel!
The air was dry with summer heat
And smoke was on the yellow moon;
But from the Heavens, faint and sweet,
Came floating down a wond'rous tune,
And as they heard, they sang full well,
Those drovers three, "Noel! Noel!