Rudyard Kipling captured the nostalgia for a very special time in his poem,

'In the hush of the cool, dim dawn when the shades begin to retreat
And the jackal bolts to his lair at the sound of your horse's feet;
When the great kite preens his wings and calls to his mate in the tree
And the lilac opens her buds ere the sun shall be up to sea;
When the trailing rosebush thrills with the sparrow's pent-up strife;
Oh! A ride in an Indian dawn, there's no such pleasure in life.'