Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keates

Text:

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-fring'd legend haunt about thy shape
    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?

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
    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!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
    Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
    For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
    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.

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,
    Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
        Is emptied of this 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.

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!
    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.

Initial Reaction:

My initial reaction after reading “Ode on a Grecian Urn” is that the poem is about a man reminiscing about the past. He is thinking about “maidens,” melodies,” “happy boughs,” and a “sacrifice” of the past, and I believe he is wishing that the people, sounds, and events were frozen in time so that they could be enjoyed forever.

Paraphrase:

The unchanging bride that will always be silent,
The foster-child that will always be silent as time passes slowly,
Sylvan historian, who will never be able to tell
A story more sweet than this rhyme:
What legends are in your being
Of gods or humans, or of both,
        In the worship place or the valleys of Arcadia?
What men or gods are these beings? What women are they?
What are they pursuing? What are they desperately trying to escape?
What and songs? What crazy excitement?

Songs that can be heard are beautiful, but those that cannot be heard
Are even more beautiful: therefore, silent instruments, keep playing;
Not for the light ear, but for the more emotionally devoted one,
Play to the spirit gods:
Young child, beneath the trees that you will never be able to leave
Your song, not even those trees are bare;
        Passionate lover, never will you be able to kiss,
Even though you are so close to winning over your love, but do not be sad;
Her beauty will never be able to diminish, even though you will never truly be able to get her,
You will always love her, and she will always be fair!

Ah, happy trees that cannot shed
    Your leaves, now ever move past the spring into a different season;
And happy musician, never tired,
   Forever playing songs that will always be new;
Happy love!
It will always be a new love and will always be enjoyed,
   It will always be exciting and young;
All humans everywhere,
That leaves sorrowful,
A high fever and a thirsty tongue.

Who are these people who have come to watch the sacrifice?
To what altar, mysterious priest,
Do you lead the sacrifice bowing under the skies,
    With her silk dress and garlands?
What is the small town by the shore,
Or the city built on the mountain,
Is emptied to watch this tragedy?
And, small town, your streets will always be
Silent, without a single person to tell    Will
  Where everyone in the town went and why they can never come back.

O the attic! Filled with
    Statues of men and women distraught,
With the branches of the forest and the weeds that have been trampled on;
The silence teases our mind
As does eternity: Cruel Pastoral!
    When old age deteriorates our generation,
        You will always be here, in the middle of our sorrows
A friend to people who say,
“Truth is in beauty, beauty is truth”—that is all
      you can know on earth, and that is all you need to know.

SWIFTT:

SW: The poem is composed of multiple apostrophes, such as “foster child,” “Sylvan historian,” and “unravished bride.” The apostrophes serve to identify the subject of the narrator’s thoughts before he began to tell a story about the characters. In addition, stanzas one and four are composed of a series of rhetorical questions. As the narrator asked more questions, readers can see that the narrator is becoming increasingly involved in the story he is telling. The poem has a rhyme scheme of ababcdcdef. Further, the poem conveys the idea that the images captured on the urn will never be able to make a sound through words like “quietness,” “silence,” and “unheard.”

I: The poem contains a plethora of imagery as the author described pictures painted on urns. For example, the author painted a picture in the reader’s mind of “happy boughs,” “happy melodist,” happy lovers, and a “sacrifice.” When describing the boughs, the author paints an image of a tree “that cannot shed [its] leaves” and can never “bid the spring adieu.” When describing the melodist, the author paints a picture of a man who loves music and will always be able to write pleasing and innovative songs. When describing the lovers, the author paints a picture of a “Bold Lover” chasing a “fair” woman. And when describing the sacrifice, the author paints an image of a girl clothed in “her silken flanks with garlands.” Further, the poem contains earthy imagery, such as “the trees,” the “happy boughs,” and the “green altar.”

F: The poem contains multiple allusions to the gods and “deities.” Further, the poem contains an allusion to the “dales of Arcady.” Further, at the end of the poem, the author personifies beauty as truth, and truth as beauty.

T: The tone of the poem is reflective and reminiscent. Throughout the poem the author speaks of lovers that will always be young, trees whose leaves will never fall, and musicians whose songs will never be heard. As the author describes each of the scenes, he conveys the idea that the pictures he paints will be forever preserved in their youthful glory. However, while the characters painted on the urn will remain forever young, the author and the other mortals of his generation will become “waste” with old age. Therefore, the author was reflecting the beauty and life painted on the urn, but also thinking about how he would age along with the rest of his generation.

T: The theme of the poem is that unlike the frozen images painted on urns, in reality, every mortal will age and progress in life. The urns are respected for the youthful, lively images painted on its surfaces like the “Bold lover,” “fair” woman, “happy boughs,” and “melodist.” However, because the characters are only images on an urn, the lover will never be able to kiss the woman of his dreams, the boughs will never be able to shed its leaves, and the melodist’s songs will never be heard. But at the same time, all the subjects of the pictures on the urn will always be free from the constraints of time and aging, and they will remain forever young. At the same time, the author will continue to age over time, and he is not free from the constraints of aging. So while the images will be forever young but never be able to truly experience life or move forward, the author would eventually age, but he would be able to live his own life and progress.

Conclusion:

After analyzing the poem, I now realize that the poem is not simply about a man reminiscing about the past, but it is about a man reflecting on how the images on the urn will be preserved forever and free from aging, while the narrator himself would grow old. The narrator constantly expressed the idea that the images on the urn were immortal though lines like “Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave,” “Bold, Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,” and “For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair.” Through lines like the ones listed above, the readers get a sense of the idea that the images on the urn are frozen in time, and while they will never be able to progress in life, they will also always be beautiful and remain frozen in the prime of their lives. However, in the real world, the narrator would not remain frozen in his youth, but he would eventually become “waste” as he aged.