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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]
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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]
 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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[XV. Joy! Joy!]

Joy! Joy!
The long dark night is past;
The weary way is done;
Bright o'er the mountain, fast
Ascends the cheering sun.
Joy! Joy!
My heart revives again;
My soul new lights its fires;
I speed along the plain,
With hope that never tires.
See! See!
The well-known hill is nigh;
The spiry poplars rise;
The brook is winding by;
There still my cottage lies.
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Hark! Hark!
What welcome sounds of home!
I know their meaning well:
Far, far my foot may roam,
Yet deep and strong their spell.
Hark! Hark!
The longing heifer lows;
Shrill barks my faithful Tray:
His master's tread he knows,
And see! he bounds away.
Shout! Shout!
The goal, the goal is nigh;
My love is at the door:
We run, we leap, we fly;
We meet to part no more!
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