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The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival

With a biographical sketch
Percival, James Gates (1795-1856)

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VOL. I.
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VOL. II.
  
PROMETHEUS.
  
THE MIND.
  
THE SUICIDE.
  
THE WRECK.
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THE DREAM OF A DAY, AND OTHER POEMS. FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1843.
  
THE DREAM OF A DAY.
  
GENIUS WAKING.
  
TO THE EAGLE.
  
SENECA LAKE.
  
LAYS OF THE SEASONS.
  
THE LIGHT GUITAR.
  
THE VINTAGE DANCE.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
TO A BUTTERFLY.
  
THE VOICE OF NATURE.
  
SONG.
  
SONG.
  
SAPPHO.
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SONNETS.
  
THE CONTRAST.
  
BALLAD.
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SONGS.
  
GREEK APPEAL TO AMERICA.
  
OUR FLAG.
  
SPRING.
  
YOUTH RECALLED.
  
A VISION.
  
THE POET'S WORLD.
  
MINNESONG.
  
THE KNIGHT.
  
LIFE'S DREAM.
  
THE HEXLI. (LITTLE WITCH.)
  
THE MAIDEN.
  
THE POWER OF SONG.
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LAYS.
 1. 
[I. Mellow fades the glow of even]
 2. 
[II. Hark! the song]
 3. 
[III. Through the wood, in evening's shadow, straying]
 4. 
[IV. Speed thee far]
 5. 
[V. O that I lay on yonder mountain]
 6. 
[VI. They call me,—they call me, from meadow and grove]
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[VII. “O, rest thee here in silent bower]
 8. 
[VIII. The song is still, that over heath and mountain]
 9. 
[IX. Night is on the hill]
 10. 
[X. Bells are ringing]
 11. 
[XI. The snow is gone]
 12. 
[XII. Give me that fond music]
 13. 
[XIII. Morning is lightest]
 14. 
[XIV. 'T is dawn]
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[XV. Joy! Joy!]
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[XVI. Faintly breathes the maiden's song]
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[XVII. In sheeted gold the river glides]
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[XVIII. Sitting by a meadow brook]
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[XIX. How gentle the water's motion]
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[XX. The night is still:—on meadow and silvery fountain]
 21. 
[XXI. Over hill and plain and mountain]
 22. 
[XXII. From rock rebounding]
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SLAVONIA.
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TEUTONIA.
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SONGS
  
THE SISTER SPIRITS.
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CLASSIC MELODIES.
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SONGS FOR NATIONAL AIRS.
  
THE NORNS.
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POSTHUMOUS POEMS.
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JUVENILE POEMS.

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V. The Festive Evening.

“Friert der Pol mit kaltem Schimmer.”—
Voss.

Cheerful glows the festive chamber;
In the circle pleasure smiles:
Mounts the flame, like wreaths of amber;
Bright as love its warmth beguiles.
Glad the heart with joy is lighted;
Hand with hand, in faith, is plighted,
As around the goblet flows.
Fill,—fill,—fill, and quaff the liquid rose!
Bright it glows,—
O, how bright the bosom glows!
Pure as light our social meeting:
Here no passion dares invade.
Joys we know, not light and fleeting;
Flowers we twine that never fade.
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Ours are links, not time can sever:
Brighter still they glow for ever,—
Glow in yon eternal day.
No,—no,—no, ye will not pass away
Ye will stay,—
Social joys, for ever stay!
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