LXXXVI.

And so good night to them,—or, if you will,

Good morrow—for the cock had crown, and light

Began to clothe each Asiatic hill,

And the mosque crescent struggled into sight

Of the long caravan, which in the chill

Of dewy dawn wound slowly round each height

That stretches to the stony belt, which girds

Asia, where Kaff looks down upon the Kurds.[356]

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