Childhood

Childhood has its secrets and its mysteries; but who can tell or who can explain them! We have all roamed through this silent wonder-wood – we have all once opened our eyes in blissful astonishment, as the beautiful reality of life overflowed our souls. We knew not where, or who, we were – the whole world was ours and we were the whole world’s. That was an infinite life – without beginning and without end, without rest and without pain. In the heart, it was as clear as the spring heavens, fresh as the violet’s perfume – hushed and holy as a Sabbath morning.

MEMORIES. A Story Of German Love. From The German Of Max Muller by George P. Upton