uishable offering."

Henry was heated, and only fell asleep late in the morning. The
thoughts of his soul flowed together into a wonderful dream. A deep
blue stream glimmered from the green plains. A boat was floating upon
the smooth surface. Matilda was sitting in it, and steering. She was
adorned with garlands, singing a simple song, and looked over to him
with sweet sadness. His bosom was oppressed, he knew not why. The sky
was clear; the flood quiet. Her heavenly face was reflected in the
waves. Suddenly the boat began to whirl. He cried out to her earnestly.
She smiled and laid down the helm in the boat which continued its
whirling. He was seized with overwhelming fear. He plunged into the
stream, but could not move, and was hurried along. She beckoned to him,
as if she had something to tell him, and though the boat was fast
filling with water, yet she smiled with unspeakable tenderness, and
looked down serenely into the abyss. Suddenly it drew her in. A gentle
breath of air passed over the stream, which, flowed on as quiet and
glittering as ever. His intense anxiety robbed Henry of all
consciousness. His heart no longer throbbed. On recovering, his senses,
he was on the dry land. He must have floated a long distance. It was a
strange country. He knew not what had happened to him. His mind had
vanished. Thoughtlessly he plunged deeper and deeper into the country.
He was excessively weary. A little spring gushed from the side of a
hill, sounding like the music of bells. In his hand he caught
a few drops, and with them wetted his parched lips. The terrible
occurrence lay behind him like a fearful dream. He walked on farther
and farther;--flowers and trees spoke to him.

Now he felt in high spirits and at home. He heard that song again. He
ran to the place whence the sounds proceeded. Suddenly some one held
him by the clothes. "Dear Henry," cried a well known voice. He looked
round, and Matilda clasped him in her arms.

"Why did you run from me, dear heart," cried she panting. "I could
scarcely overtake you."

Henry wept. He clasped her to himself, "Where is the stream?" cried he
with tears.

"Do you not see its blue waves above us?"

He looked up, and the blue stream was flowing gently over his head.

"Where are we, dear Matilda?"

"With our fathers."

"Shall we remain together?"

"Forever," she replied, while she pressed her lips to his, and so
embraced him that she could not tear herself from him. She