A PERSIAN MORNING. 
63 
walls, and a few leafy trees. We had travelled full nine farsangs, 
that is, eight hours, and entered our menzil parched with thirst, 
and our skins burnt to cinder. Since leaving Shiraz, I had never 
felt heat so oppressive as that day; the thermometer at twelve 
o’clock, was 94° of Fahrenheit; this, with the confinement of 
our quarters in the half-tumbled down apartments of an old 
ruined mansion, rendered our whole sojourn almost unbearable. 
The caravansary was too abundantly filled with pilgrims for us 
to put our heads in there; indeed, the first steam from its 
yawning gate, was like the breath of the Simoom ; and we were 
glad to find a less pestilential atmosphere, even in the “ haunt of 
the jackall, and the lair of the wild fox.” 
September 3d. At two o’clock this morning, we exchanged 
our vaulted cells for the canopy of heaven, and re-commenced 
our journey under one of the clearest and most brilliant star-light 
mornings that ever looked with the eye of beauty on the sleeping 
earth. So bright was the general illumination diffused over the 
whole surrounding country, I could distinguish every distant 
range of mountains by their varied and tender shades. But 
when the dawn began to break, then the scene became enchant¬ 
ing ; the light shadows, tinged with a thousand magic hues, 
which appeared hovering over the hills, gradually vanished into 
the sea of golden glory unfolded by the rising sun. Soon after 
quitting the narrow vale which inclosed our last evening’s lodg¬ 
ing, the view opened magnificently to the westward, bounded 
along the pale silvery horizon by a vast amphitheatre of moun¬ 
tains ; which shot forward from their bases ramifications, of minor 
heights, that traversed the lower country in various directions. The 
road was excellent, and in the bearing of yesterday, N. 23° W.; 
but often taking a course along the valleys between the subor- 
i 
