In Woods of God-Realization: Volume VIII

Stretched beneath the cedars and pines, a cool stone serving for pillow, the soft sand for bed, one leg resting carelessly on the other, drinking fresh air with the whole heart, kissing the glorious light with fulness of joy, singing OM, letting the murmuring stream to keep time, Rama is questioned, half in joke, by a visitor—some upstart of civilization:—