Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, | |
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, | |
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express | |
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: | |
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape | 5 |
Of deities or mortals, or of both, | |
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? | |
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? | |
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? | |
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? | 10 |
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard | |
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; | |
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d, | |
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: | |
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave | 15 |
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; | |
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, | |
Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; | |
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, | |
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! | 20 |
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed | |
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; | |
And, happy melodist, unwearièd, | |
For ever piping songs for ever new; | |
More happy love! more happy, happy love! | 25 |
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d, | |
For ever panting, and for ever young; | |
All breathing human passion far above, | |
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d, | |
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. | 30 |
Who are these coming to the sacrifice? | |
To what green altar, O mysterious priest, | |
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, | |
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? | |
What little town by river or sea-shore, | 35 |
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, | |
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn? | |
And, little town, thy streets for evermore | |
Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell | |
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return. | 40 |
O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede | |
Of marble men and maidens overwrought, | |
With forest branches and the trodden weed; | |
Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought | |
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! | 45 |
When old age shall this generation waste, | |
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe | |
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, | |
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’ — that is all | |
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. | 50 |
Ode
on a Grecian Urn — Among the antiquities British explorers
brought back from Greece were a number of clay urns, then as now displayed
at the British Museum. These were used simply as storage by the ancient
Greeks. Keats is not referring here to a cinerary urn, meaning one used
for keeping the ashes of a cremated person; the ancient Greeks used urns
as storage of perishables, not the dead. Nor is he describing a specific
real urn — none of the urns the British obtained has the exact combination
of images Keats describes here. |
|
Sylvan — adjective meaning related to forest or woods | |
loth — reluctant (more often today spelled loath, but not to be confused with loathe, which means to despise) | |
timbrels — an instrument similar to a tambourine | |
sensual — capable of sensation, in this case hearing | |
drest — dressed | |
brede — braid (referring to the way the figures are painted around the urn) | |
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’ — that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. — These lines are among the most controversial in Keats’s oeuvre. We do not have the original manuscript. Trancriptions of the manuscript made by several of Keats’s friends capitalize Truth and Beauty (as Keats did in his letters), but they do not include any quotation marks, nor does a version published in the magazine in January of 1820. The 1820 volume in which the poem appeared is the one I have used here. It did have the quotation marks, but those may have been added by an editor rather than Keats himself, whose health was deteriorating. Another problem is the dash. Clearly Keats imagines the urn saying “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” but “that is all / Ye need to know on earth, and all ye need to know” could be a further elaboration by the urn, or Keats’s response (or the speaker’s response, but there seems to be little reason to distinguish between poet and speaker in this case) to the urn’s claim that beauty and truth are equivalent. A few critics go further and say that the speaker addresses these last thirteen words to the figures on the urn. However, grammatical evidence can help us out here. Note that Keats switched the pronoun from the singular thou to the plural ye. The urn is singular, so this cannot be Keats or the speaker addressing the urn. |