no
holy one who would lend me his prayer? Dear father, at this time pray
thou for me!"

As he so thought to himself, the tree began to wave; the rock emitted a
hollow sounds and as from a great depth beneath the earth, clear, sweet
voices were heard singing:--

Her heart was full of gladness,
For gladness knew she best;
She nothing knew of sadness,
With darling at her breast.
She showered him with kisses,
She kissed his cheek so warm,--
Encircled was with blisses
Through darling's fairy form.

The soft voices seemed to sing with infinite pleasure. They repeated
the verse several times. All was quiet again, when the astonished
pilgrim heard some one speaking to him from the tree:--

"If thou wilt play a song in honor of me upon thy lute, a little maiden
will come for it; take her with thee and leave her not. Think of me
when thou comest to the emperor. I have chosen this abode, that I may
remain with my little child; let a strong, warm dwelling be built for
me here. My little one has conquered death; trouble not thyself, I am
with thee. Yet a while thou wilt remain upon earth, but the little girl
will console thee, until thou also diest and enterest into our joy."

"It is Matilda's voice!" exclaimed the pilgrim, and fell upon his knees
in prayer. Then pierced through the branches a lengthened ray unto his
eyes, and through it in the distance he beheld a small but wonderful
splendor, not to be described, only to be depicted with a skilful
pencil. It was composed of extremely delicate figures; and the most
intense pleasure and joy, even a heavenly happiness, everywhere rayed
forth from it, so that even the inanimate vessels, the chiselled
capitals, the drapery, the ornaments, everything visible, seemed not so
much like works of art, as to have grown and sprung up together like
the full-juiced herb. Most beautiful human forms were passing to and
fro, and appeared kind and gracious to each other beyond measure.
Before all was standing the pilgrim's beloved one, and it seemed as if
she would have spoken to him; yet nothing could be heard, and the
pilgrim only regarded with ardent longing her pleasant features, as she
beckoned to him so kindly and smilingly, and laid her hand upon her
heart. The sight was infinitely consoling and refreshing, and the
pilgrim remained along while steeped in holy rapture, until the vision
disappeared. The sacred beam had drawn up all pain a