Just in the hush before dawn
A little wistful wind is born.
A little chilly errant breeze,
That thrills the grasses, stirs the trees.
And, as it wanders on its way,
While yet the night is cool and dark,
The first carol of the lark, -
Its plaintive murmurs seem to say
"I wait the sorrows of the day."
Verses: Faiz Ulla
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
Suggested Poems
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.