“Aus Morgenduft gewebt and Sonnenklarheit
Der Dichtung Schleir aus der Hand der Wahrheit.’


           “The million stars which tremble
O’er the deep mind of dauntless infancy.”


“Wie leicht ward er dahin getragen,
  Was war dem Glücklichen zu schwer!
Wie tanzte vor des Lebens Wagen
  Die luftige Begleitung her!
Die Liebe mit dem süssen Lohne,
  Das Glück mit seinem gold’nen Kranz,
Der Rahm mit seiner Sternenkrone,
Die Wahrheit in der Sonne Glanz.”


What wert thou then? A child most infantine,
Yet wanderiug far beyond that innocent age,
In all but its sweet looks and mien divine;
Even then, methought, with the world’s tyrant rage
A patient warfare thy young heart did wage,
When those soft eyes of scarcely conscious thought
Some tale, or thine own fancies, would engage
To overflow with tears, or converse fraught
With passion, o’er their depths its fleeting light had wrought.”


“And I smiled, as one never smiles but once;
Then first discovering my own aim’s exent,
Which sought to comprehend the works of God,
And God himself, and all God’s intercourse
With the human mind.”



TIECK, who has embodied so many Runic secrets, explained to me what I have often felt toward myself, when he tells of the poor changeling, who, turned from the door of her adopted home, sat down on a stone and so pitied herself that she wept. Yet me also, the wonderful bird, singing in the wild forest, has tempted on, and ‘not in vain.’

Thus wrote Margaret in the noon of life, when looking back through youth to the “dewy dawn of memory.” She was the eldest child of Timothy Fuller* and Margaret Crane,† and was born in Cambridge-Port, Massachusetts, on the 23d of May, 1810.

Among her papers fortunately remains this unfinished sketch of youth, prepared by her own hand, in 1840, as the introductory chapter to an autobiographical romance.

* See Appendix A.      † See Appendix B.

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