Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah, Volume 2

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Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts, 1857 - Arabian Peninsula
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Page 28 - When beggars die there are no comets seen ; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Page 67 - ... is good sense defaced: Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools, And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools. In search of wit these lose their common sense, And then turn critics...
Page 92 - ... love will fly her home. The fugitives must brave every danger, for revenge, at all times the Bedouin's idol, now becomes the lode-star of his existence. But the Arab lover will dare all consequences. " Men have died and the worms have eaten them, but not for love," may be true in the West ; it is false in the East.
Page 344 - It was a sight, indeed,' says Pitts, ' able to pierce one's heart, to behold so many thousands in their garments of humility and mortification/ with their naked heads, and cheeks watered with tears, and to hear their grievous sighs and sobs, begging earnestly for the remission of their sins.
Page 219 - So every spirit, as it is most pure, And hath in it the more of heavenly light, So it the fairer body doth procure To habit in, and it more fairly dight, With cheerful grace and amiable sight. For, of the soul, the body form doth take, For soul is form, and doth the body make.
Page 228 - In the name of Allah, and Allah is Almighty ! (I do this) in hatred of the Fiend and to his shame.
Page 65 - Arabs, mounted dromedaries, and the soldiers had horses : a led animal was saddled for every grandee, ready whenever he might wish to leave his litter. Women, children, and invalids of the poorer classes sat upon a ' haml musattab,' — bits of- cloth spread over the two large boxes which form the camel's load.
Page 186 - I may truly say that, of all the worshippers who clung weeping to the curtain, or who pressed their beating hearts to the stone, none felt for the moment a deeper emotion than did the Haji from the far-north.
Page 127 - Mas'ud would seize my camel's halter, and, accompanied by his son and nephew bearing lights, encourage the animals with gesture and voice. It was a strange, wild scene. The black basaltic field was dotted with the huge and doubtful forms of spongyfooted camels with silent tread, looming like phantoms in the midnight air; the hot wind moaned, and whirled from the torches flakes and sheets of flame and fiery smoke, whilst ever and anon a swift-travelling Takhtrawan, drawn by mules, and surrounded by...
Page 140 - I've wander'd o'er, Clombe many a crag, cross'd many a moor, But, by my halidome, A scene so rude, so wild as this, Yet so sublime in barrenness, Ne'er did my wandering footsteps press, • Where'er I happ'd to roam."— XIV.

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