An airy flutter of slender, brown wings,
And hark! is it joy or sorrow that sings
In the one swelling note,
That trembles and thrills through the long-lifted
       throat?
 
A rush o'er the prairies, a sorrowful cry,
And the quivering grasses bow down with a sigh,
Stirred deep by emotion
That the wind sings and cries o'er the wide grassy    
       ocean.
 
A thrill of the heart, a tremble of grasses,
And wind-sound and bird-song a melody passes.
We puzzle long, but we may not know
If wind or lark first sang this song,
With its burden of exquisite woe.

^__Ann Reece Pugh