Thou Master Piper, blow Thy music through the reed of all religions—so often broken by sectarian selfishness—and bring forth Thy one theme of truth. Dress that divine melody with many golden chords, showing the richness of Thy Spirit.

And, O Master Piper! gather together, from all the highways and byways of truth’s numerous expressions, all the uncompleted songs of lonely hearts seeking attunement with Thee, and let them grow into complete melodies of joy through the love‐playing flute of life!

On my silence‐tuned radio‐mind I listened daily for Thy thrilling, anciently familiar flute notes. I tried to tune in to them, but Thou seemedst so far, far away, and at first the busy static of restlessness crackled in my silence. Then at last, however, with a few fine, careful touches of concentration, I heard a soft rustling sound, as if on wings of space. And suddenly I heard Thee piping softly, then more loudly and ever‐more loudly, with a swelling chorus of all earth’s goodness and the latent nobility in all hearts.

* In the 1949 edition, prayer #177 was a duplicate (omitted here) of #71, and the prayer that preceded #220 (#219 here) was left unnumbered. As a result, prayers 177–218 in this book are one number lower than in the earlier edition.

Next

178. Heal My Nerves and Install in Me a New Set of Telephonic Nerves