In the oldest wood I know a brooklet
That bubbles over stones and roots,
And ripples out of hollow places,
Like music out of flutes.
There creeps the pungent breath of cedars,
Rich coolness wraps the air about
While through clear pools electric flashes
Betray the watchful trout.
I know where wild things lurk and linger
In groves as gray and grand as time;
I know where God has written poems
Too strong for words or rhyme.
Folk Song of the American Negro by John Wesley Work (1915)
The Discovery of Freedom by Rose Wilder Lane
Stories of Spiritual Leaders--Includes Marcus Bach's books: Had I Been Born In Another Faith
Books by Charles Eastman:
Wigwam Evenings: Sioux Folk Tales Retold
The Soul of an Indian
Indian Heroes and Great Chieftains
Eastman personally interviewed several of the subjects in this book.
Old Indian Days
The Well-Educated Mother's Heart