avels on, there first rise above the prairie the tops of the
trees; these gradually grow larger, until finally, after many hours, the
river is reached. Nothing else breaks the uniform level. Standing upon
the ground, the eye ranges over many miles of grass; standing on a
wagon, one doubles the area of vision; and to look over the plains from
an elevation of twelve feet above the earth, is to survey at a glance a
space so vast that distance alone seems to bound its limits. The effect
of sunset over these oceans of verdure is very beautiful. A thousand
hues spread themselves upon the grassy plains, a thousand tints of gold
are cast along the heavens, and the two oceans of the sky and of the
earth intermingle in one great blaze of glory at the very gates of the
setting sun. But to speak of sunsets now is only to anticipate. Here, at
the Red River, we are only at the threshold of the sunset; its true home
lies yet many days' journey to the west--there, where the long shadows
of the vast herds of bison (used to) trail slowly over the immense
plains, huge and dark against the golden west--there, where the red man
still sees, in the glory of the setting sun, the realization of his
dream of heaven.

Major W. F. Butler: "The Great Lone Land."

As every action is capable of a peculiar dignity in the manner of it, so
also it is capable of dignity still higher in the motive of it. There is
no action so slight, nor so mean, but it may be done to a great purpose,
and ennobled therefore; nor is any purpose so great but that slight
actions may help it, and may be so done as to help it much, most
especially that chief of all purposes, the pleasing of God.

Ruskin

THE UNNAMED LAKE

It sleeps among the thousand hills
Where no man ever trod,
And only nature's music fills
The silences of God.

Great mountains tower above its shore,
Green rushes fringe its brim,
And o'er its breast for evermore
The wanton breezes skim.

Dark clouds that intercept the sun
Go there in Spring to weep,
And there, when Autumn days are done,
White mists lie down to sleep.

Sunrise and sunset crown with gold
The peaks of ageless stone,
Where winds have thundered from of old
And storms have set their throne.

No echoes of the world afar
Disturb it night or day,
But sun and shadow, moon and star,
Pass and repass for aye.

'Twas in