THE LAND OF THE PHARAOHS.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly, to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth ;
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
An 1 all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
The river flows on through a narrow strip of vegetation varying from a few feet to a
few miles in width, but always bounded by the desert. Sometimes the mountains re-
treat to a considerable distance from the river, sometimes they come down to its very
brink, and form a series of bold cliffs, often surmounted by a Coptic convent. The vil-
lages are commonly picturesque, as seen from a distance, standing as they do under a
grove of palms, and often placed on the top of a mound which hides the ruins of an an-
cient city. But on a nearer approach they are dirty and dilapidated beyond description.
AN EGYPTIAN VILLAGE.
Still these wretched squalid hamlets have a charm for the European traveler. The min-
aret of the mosque, though often constructed only of mud, is brilliant with white-wash,
and it rises gracefully amongst the palm-trees. At sunset, after nightfall, at day-break,
at noon, and toward evening, the Muezzin takes his stand in the gallery, and in aloud,
sonorous voice calls the faithful to prayer—'' God is most great. I testify that there is
no Deity but God. I testify that Mohammed is God's apostle. Come to prayer.
Come to security. God is most great;" adding, during the night, and in the early
morning, " Prayer is better than sleep." Attached to the mosque is commonly a school,
the noise of which is a sufficient guide to the spot. The children recite their lessons all
together, and each scholar endeavors to make his voice heard above the din by shout-
ing his loudest. The instruction given is of the slightest possible kind, consisting of little
80
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly, to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth ;
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
An 1 all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
The river flows on through a narrow strip of vegetation varying from a few feet to a
few miles in width, but always bounded by the desert. Sometimes the mountains re-
treat to a considerable distance from the river, sometimes they come down to its very
brink, and form a series of bold cliffs, often surmounted by a Coptic convent. The vil-
lages are commonly picturesque, as seen from a distance, standing as they do under a
grove of palms, and often placed on the top of a mound which hides the ruins of an an-
cient city. But on a nearer approach they are dirty and dilapidated beyond description.
AN EGYPTIAN VILLAGE.
Still these wretched squalid hamlets have a charm for the European traveler. The min-
aret of the mosque, though often constructed only of mud, is brilliant with white-wash,
and it rises gracefully amongst the palm-trees. At sunset, after nightfall, at day-break,
at noon, and toward evening, the Muezzin takes his stand in the gallery, and in aloud,
sonorous voice calls the faithful to prayer—'' God is most great. I testify that there is
no Deity but God. I testify that Mohammed is God's apostle. Come to prayer.
Come to security. God is most great;" adding, during the night, and in the early
morning, " Prayer is better than sleep." Attached to the mosque is commonly a school,
the noise of which is a sufficient guide to the spot. The children recite their lessons all
together, and each scholar endeavors to make his voice heard above the din by shout-
ing his loudest. The instruction given is of the slightest possible kind, consisting of little
80