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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]
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[II. Hark! the song]
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[III. Through the wood, in evening's shadow, straying]
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[IV. Speed thee far]
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[V. O that I lay on yonder mountain]
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[VI. They call me,—they call me, from meadow and grove]
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[VII. “O, rest thee here in silent bower]
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[VIII. The song is still, that over heath and mountain]
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[IX. Night is on the hill]
 10. 
[X. Bells are ringing]
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[XI. The snow is gone]
 12. 
[XII. Give me that fond music]
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[XIII. Morning is lightest]
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[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]
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[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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I. Bird of the Mountain.

“Lasstowiczka ljta, ljta,
Powjda z'e swjta—”
“The swallow is flying, is flying;
He tells me it dawns.”

Bird of the mountain, sweetly thou singest,—
O, sweet thy song!
Over the fountain, high in the branches,
Thou sitt'st alone.
There oft, at evening, I linger to hear thee:
Bird of the mountain, sweetly thou singest,—
O, sweet thy song!
Bird of the mountain, why art thou ever
So sad and lone?
Only I hear thee breaking the silence
So deep around.
Art thou the spirit of heart-broken maiden?
Bird of the mountain, why art thou ever
So sad and lone?
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