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 The Ballad of Yaada

(A Legend of the Pacific Coast)

There are fires on Lulu Island, and the sky is opalescent With the pearl and purple tinting from the smouldering of peat. And the Dream Hills lift their summits in a sweeping, hazy crescent, With the Capilano canyon at their feet.

There are fires on Lulu Island, and the smoke, uplifting, lingers In a faded scarf of fragrance as it creeps across the day, And the Inlet and the Narrows blur beneath its silent fingers, And the canyon is enfolded in its grey.