Who shall tell the loveliness of the land on which Rheinfrid now gazed from the mountain?  To breathe the clear shining air was in itself beatitude.  He saw angelic figures and heard the singing of angels in the heavenly gardens glittering far below, and he longed to fly down to their blessed companionship.  Suddenly over the tree-tops of a golden glade he descried a starry globe which shone like chrysoprase, and round and round it a little blue bird flew joyously.  And so swiftly it flew that hardly had it gone before it had returned again.