The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival With a biographical sketch |
1. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
22. |
1. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
1. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
XIII. Festivity.
|
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||
XIII. Festivity.
“Fröhlich tönt der Becherklang.”—
Stollberg.
Stollberg.
Joyous rings the goblet's chime,
In our merry meeting;
And our cheerful hearts keep time,
As the hours are fleeting.
Wake the echoes round us!
Friendship's chain has bound us!
Only love can wound us!
Fill your glasses,—fill them o'er!
Drink, and care shall vex no more!
In our merry meeting;
And our cheerful hearts keep time,
As the hours are fleeting.
Wake the echoes round us!
Friendship's chain has bound us!
Only love can wound us!
Fill your glasses,—fill them o'er!
Drink, and care shall vex no more!
Joy ascends on purple wings,
Golden clouds around him:
Lightly to the wind he flings
Every chain that bound him.
From his heaven descending,
See him o'er us bending,
Brightest influence lending!
Fill your glasses,—fill them high!
Quick as light, the minutes fly.
Golden clouds around him:
Lightly to the wind he flings
Every chain that bound him.
From his heaven descending,
See him o'er us bending,
Brightest influence lending!
Fill your glasses,—fill them high!
Quick as light, the minutes fly.
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||