aubriand, that he never found himself alone, galloping
in the desert, without a sensation approaching to rapture which was
indescribable.

[175] [Inns, caravanserais. From _sar[=a]y_, a palace or inn.]

[176] [The remaining seventy lines of stanza xx. were not included in
the original MS., but were sent to the publisher in successive
instalments while the poem was passing through the press.]

[177] [In the first draft of a supplementary fragment, line 883 ran
thus--

/ _a fancied_ \
_"and tints tomorrow with_ { } _ray_."
\ _an airy_ /

A note was appended--

"Mr. M^y.^ Choose which of the 2 epithets 'fancied' or 'airy' may
be best--or if neither will do--tell me and I will dream another--

"Yours,

"B^n^"

The epithet ("prophetic") which stands in the text was inserted in a
revise dated December 3, 1813. Two other versions were also sent, that
Gifford might select that which was "best, or rather _not worst_"--

/ _gilds_ \
"_And_ { } _the hope of morning with its ray_."
\ _tints_ /

"_And gilds to-morrow's hope with heavenly ray_."

(_Letters_, 1898, ii. 282.)

On the same date, December 3rd, two additional lines were affixed to the
quatrain (lines 886-889)--

_"Soft as the Mecca Muezzin's strains invite_
_Him who hath journeyed far to join the rite."_

And in a later revise, as "a last alteration"--

_"Blest as the call which from Medina's dome_
_Invites devotion to her Prophet's tomb."_

An erased version of this "last alteration" ran thus--

_"Blest as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's dome_
_Which welcomes Faith to view her Prophet's tomb_."{A}

{A} [It is probable that Byron, who did not trouble himself to
distinguish between "lie" and "lay," and who, as the MS. of _English
Bards, and Scotch Reviewers_ (see line 732, _Poetical Works_, 1898, i.
355) reveals, pronounced "petit maitre" _anglice_ in four syllables,
regarded "dome" (_vide supra_) as a true and exact rhyme to "tomb," but,
with his wonted compliance, was persuaded to make yet another
alteration.] ]

[gr] {196} Of lines 886-889, two, if not three, variants were sent to
the publisher--

(1) _Dear as the Melody of better days_
_That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise_--
_Sweet as his native song to Exile's ears_
_Shall sound each tone thy long-loved