The world is full of poetry. The air is living with its spirit; and the waves dance to the music of its melodies, and sparkle in its brightness.
Green sods are all their monument; and yet it tells A nobler history than pillared piles, Or the eternal pyramids. - James Gates Percival
Green sods are all their monument; and yet it tells A nobler history than pillared piles, Or the eternal pyramids.
- James Gates Percival
There are moments of life that we never forget, which brighten and brighten as time steals away. - James Gates Percival
There are moments of life that we never forget, which brighten and brighten as time steals away.
Roses bloom, and then they wither; Cheeks are bright, then fade and die; Shapes of light are wafted hither, Then, like visions, hurry by. - James Gates Percival
Roses bloom, and then they wither; Cheeks are bright, then fade and die; Shapes of light are wafted hither, Then, like visions, hurry by.
Happy the life, that in a peaceful stream, Obscure, unnoticed through the vale has flow'd; The heart that ne'er was charm'd by fortune's gleam Is eve… - James Gates Percival
Happy the life, that in a peaceful stream, Obscure, unnoticed through the vale has flow'd; The heart that ne'er was charm'd by fortune's gleam Is eve…
Thought can wing its way Swifter than lightning-flashes or the beam That hastens on the pinions of the morn. - James Gates Percival
Thought can wing its way Swifter than lightning-flashes or the beam That hastens on the pinions of the morn.
There is nothing but death Our affections can sever, And till life's latest breath Love shall bind us for ever. - James Gates Percival
There is nothing but death Our affections can sever, And till life's latest breath Love shall bind us for ever.
Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames are frail, Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay; Though darken'd in this poor life by a veil Of s… - James Gates Percival
Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames are frail, Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay; Though darken'd in this poor life by a veil Of s…
How awful is that hour when con, science stings. - James Gates Percival
How awful is that hour when con, science stings.
O rose! the sweetest blossom, Of spring the fairest flower, O rose! the joy of heaven. The god of love, with roses His yellow locks adorning, Dances … - James Gates Percival
O rose! the sweetest blossom, Of spring the fairest flower, O rose! the joy of heaven. The god of love, with roses His yellow locks adorning, Dances …
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