The white buffalo calf has arrived
A sacred omen, a sign from above
The herd in Yellowstone, the last of its kind
Brings hope for the future, a blessing of love

Oh Great Spirit, hear our song
Guide us to restore what was lost for so long
The buffalo roam, the people rejoice
The white calf returns, we raise up our voice

For centuries the tribes have passed down
The story of the White Buffalo Woman
She came in a time of great need, with gifts all around
To show the people how to live, how to pray, how to grow

The herds were decimated, the people suffered too
But now a new chapter, a chance to renew
The land, the culture, the bond that was broke
As the white calf stands tall, a powerful provoke

The white buffalo calf, a sacred sight
A beacon of hope, a future so bright
For the Yellowstone herd, the last of its kind
May the Great Spirit's blessings forever be entwined.

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.

And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
It was matter for general remark,
Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
In his zeal to discover the Snark.

But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
For he knew it was useless to fly.

He offered large discount—he offered a cheque
(Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
And grabbed at the Banker again.

Without rest or pause—while those frumious jaws
Went savagely snapping around—
He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
Till fainting he fell to the ground.

The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
And solemnly tolled on his bell.

He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
The least likeness to what he had been:
While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white—
A wonderful thing to be seen!

To the horror of all who were present that day,
He uprose in full evening dress,
And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say
What his tongue could no longer express.

Down he sank in a chair—ran his hands through his hair—
And chanted in mimsiest tones
Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
While he rattled a couple of bones.

"Leave him here to his fate—it is getting so late!"
The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
"We have lost half the day. Any further delay,
And we sha'n't catch a Snark before night!"