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"I admire the rainbow most, which over-arches the fall, and plays into light, or dies away as the sunbeams touch the foam," said Violet. "Doesn't it remind you of Al-Sirat's arch, Miss Home?" asked Kennedy. "Haven't the pleasure of that gentleman's acquaintance," observed Cyril.
"Nor I," said Kennedy; "but Al-Sirat's arch is the bridge narrow as the edge of a razor, or the thread of an attenuated spider which is supposed to span the fiery abyss, over which the good skate into Paradise, while the bad topple over it. Don't you remember Byron's lines about it in the Giaour? "`Yea, Soul, and should our prophet say That form was nought but breathing clay, By Alla!
I would answer nay; Though on Al-Sirat's arch I stood, That topples o'er the fiery flood, With Paradise within my view, And all its Houris beckoning through. "Pretty nearly the only lines of Byron I know." Somehow Kennedy was looking at Violet while he repeated the lines.
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