at clear stream, between shores
adorned with all that could delight the eye--rocks and trees and
flowers, with here and there foaming waterfalls, from mountain rivulets
which poured themselves into the great river. The woods were full of
song, and birds with splendid plumage flashed amidst the foliage like
rainbow hues amidst the clouds. Eric knew not whither he was being
carried, but his heart was sunshine and peace. On and on he swept with
the winding stream, until at last, darting under a dark archway of rock,
and then emerging into light, the boat grounded on a shore of pure white
sand, while the thread rose and led him to the land. No sooner had he
stepped on shore and ascended the green bank, than he found himself at
the end of a long broad avenue of splendid old trees, whose tops met
overhead. The far-off end of the avenue was closed by a great marble
staircase, which ascended to a magnificent castle. Wall rose above wall,
and tower over tower. He saw grand flights of stairs, leading from one
stately terrace to another, with marble statues, clear gushing
fountains, and flower-gardens, and every kind of lovely tree. It was his
father's castle at last! He ran on with breathless anxiety and joy. He
soon reached a large gate, that seemed to be covered with glittering
gold. As he looked at it, he saw the thread tied to a golden knocker
upon it, shaped like the old cross in the forest. Inscribed over the
gate were the words, "He that persevereth to the end shall be saved." He
seized the knocker, and the moment it fell, the thread broke and
vanished like a flash of light. A crash of music was then heard. The
door opened, and there, in the midst of a court paved with marble of
purest white, and on a golden throne, sat Eric's father, surrounded by
his brothers and sisters. The beautiful lady was there too, and many,
many more to welcome Eric. His father clasped him to his heart, and
said, "My son was lost, but is found!" While all crowded round Eric to
bid him welcome, with his weary feet and torn dress, kept together by
the golden band, a chorus was heard singing,--

"Home where the weary rest,
Home where the good are blest,
Home of the soul;
Glorious the race when run,
Glorious the prize when won,
Glorious the goal!"

Then there rose a swell of many young voices singing,--

"Oh, be joyful, be joyful, let every voice sing!
Welcome, brothers, our brother, the son of the king;