The Ballad of Laloo

This is Laloo, chief of the tribe whose feet
Follow the murmuring Illecillewaet,
As through the mighty Selkirk Range it strays
Singing, and sighing down its waterways.

Laloo who was the man, before these grim
Canyons and crags crushed the soul of him,
Tortured his heart and bleached his red blood pale
Before his feet passed up the long, long trail.

Chief was Laloo and well beloved of men
But best beloved of lovely Ollienn
She the sweet mountain flower of her race
Fleetest of foot and loveliest of face.

Daring, but dutiful, winsome and sweet
This daughter of the Illecillewaet.
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