THE KASÎDAH I, 9, 20

The highlands catch yon Orient gleam,
 while purpling still the lowlands lie;
And pearly mists, the morning-pride,
 soar incense-like to greet the sky.

The horses neigh, the camels groan,
 the torches gleam, the cressets flare;
The town of canvas falls, and man
 with din and dint invadeth air:

The Golden Gates swing right and left;
 up springs the Sun with flamy brow;
The dew-cloud melts in gush of light;
 brown Earth is bathed in morning-glow.