In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty -- the duty of prayer -- the daily recognition of the Unseen and Eternal. Daily devotions were more necessary than daily food... Each soul must meet the morning sun, the new sweet earth and the Great Silence alone!
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips.
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sun to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow.