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Author: Various

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Again I stood under the diaphanous skies, in air glorious as
aether, whose every breath raises men's spirits like sparkling
wine. Once more I saw the evening star hanging like a solitaire
from the pure front of the western firmament; and the after glow
transfiguring and transforming, as by magic, the homely and
rugged features of the scene into a fairy land lit with a light
which never shines on other soils or seas. Then would appear the
woollen tents, low and black, of the true Badawin, mere dots in
the boundless waste of lion tawny clays and gazelle brown
gravels, and the camp fire dotting like a glow worm the village
centre.

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