Thou, Matilda, art revealing
Love eternal to my feeling,
Thou, the goal of every sense.

Thou, without my questions daring,
Art declaring
When I shall attain to thee.
Gaily in a thousand measures
Will I praise creation's treasures,
Till thou dost encircle me.

Things unwonted, wonders olden!
To you beholden,
Ever in my heart remain.
Memory her spell is flinging,
Where light's holy fountain springing
Washed away the dream of pain.

During this song he had noticed nothing, but as he looked up, there
appeared a young girl standing upon the rock, who kindly greeted him
like an old acquaintance, and invited him to go to her dwelling, where
she had already prepared an evening meal for him. Her whole behavior
and carriage towards him were friendly. She asked him to tarry a few
moments, while she stepped under the tree, and looking up with an
indescribable smile, shook many roses from her apron upon the grass.
She knelt silently by his side, but soon arose and led the pilgrim on.

"Who has told thee about me?" asked the pilgrim.

"Our mother."

"Who is thy mother?"

"The Mother of God."

"How long hast thou been here?"

"Since I came from the tomb."

"Hast thou already been dead?"

"How could I else be living?"

"Livest thou entirely alone here?"

"An old man is at home, yet I know many more who have lived."

"Wouldst thou like to remain with me?"

"Indeed I love thee."

"How long hast thou known me?"

"O! from olden times; my former mother, too, told me about thee."

"Hast thou yet a mother?"

"Yes; but really the same."

"What is her name?"

"Maria."

"Who was thy father?"

"The Count of Hohenzollern."

"Him I also know."

"Thou shouldst know him well, for he is also thy father."

"My father is in Eisenach."

"Thou hast more parents."

"Whither are we going?"

"Ever homewards."

They had now reached a roomy spot in the wood, where some decayed
towers were standing beyond deep ravines. Early shrubbery wound about
the old walls, like a youthful garland around the silvery head of an
old man. While contemplating the gray stones, the tortuous clefts, and
the tall, ghastly, shapes of rock, one looked into immensity of time,
and saw the most distant events, collected in short but brilliant
minutes. So appears to us the infinite space of heaven, clad in dark
blue; and like a milky glimmer, stainles