A lamp suspended from its azure dome;
Whilst underneath him the world’s mountains lay
Like mole-hills, and her streams like lucid threads.
We breakfasted on the bank of a limpid lake at the base of the “Cross of Peace,” from whence {145} I have the honor of dating my letter, and of giving you the renewed assurance of my profound respect and veneration; recommending to your fervent prayers, in a special manner, this vast desert, which contains so many precious souls still buried in the shades of death.
Monseigneur, your very humble and devoted servant in Jesus Christ,
P. J. De Smet, S. J.
No. X
A. M. D. G.
Camp of the Assiniboins, Sept. 26th, 1845.
“Here bloomy meads with vivid greens are crown’d,
And glowing violets throw sweet odors round.”