Ode on a grecian urn by John Keats
First stanze of the poem …
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 haunts 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?
Explanatory note .. John Keats’s eyes fall on an urn that belongs to the days of yore. Nonetheless, the scenes of Nature painted on its body have remained fresh and lively. Time that devours anything and everything on Earth has failed to besmirch the timeless beauty of the mountains and woods painted on the urn. The author is swayed by the scenic landscape painted in the urn and conjures a vision where the urn is a virgin still untouched by a lover. She (the urn) is depicted to be the foster child of Time and Silence. From her foster parents, the urn (the young maid) inherits her ability to fend off the creeping decay that happens with the passage of years. The author’s mind is engulfed in a torrent of emotions and wonder as he feasts his eyes with the beauty of the bedecked urn. He begins to address her (the urn) directly to convey his deep appreciation of her beauty. His admiration is is couched in a volley of questions.
Quite obviously, the author is a lover of Nature. That is why the scene of the woods, rocks, and valleys flood his mind with wonder and admiration. He imagines a crowd of humans and gods bewitched by the tranquil surroundings rejoicing and dancing to the music of drums and flutes. As a shy young virgin, she (the urn) wants to keep away from a young lover, but craves to be touched and kissed by him in the depth of her mind. The author clearly listens to the heartbeat of the young virgin (the urn).
Second stanza of the poem ..
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!
Explanation … The poet is clearly mesmerized by the beauty of the landscape painted on the urn. The trees, the terrain and the rocks stand still, unaffected by the passage of time. The beauty strikes a musical chord in the heart of the poet. He appears to hear melodies emanating from the scenes painted on the urn. He realizes that the sound is unreal, but it is timeless. For the receptive listener, the music has an enduring charm. He knows for a casual visitor, there is no music there in the landscape, but for a sensitive viewer, the music holds a endearing influence.
The author becomes romantic. He imagines a young man sitting close to her beloved under the tree laden with leaves. The lovers remain in close embrace, but can’t kiss and take the next step in their love life. This is because the trees never shed their leaves in order to remain static and evergreen. Similarly, the romance of the lovers sitting under the tree remains eternal, but the romance does not advance along the earthly way. Marriage and bodily relations remain out of limits for both. They remain youthful forever with their hearts pounded by romantic storms.
3rd stanza of the poem ..
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.
Explanation ..The narrator’s eyes remain transfixed on the leafy trees painted on the urn. He conjures the scene of the romantic bond between the lovers that never frays with age. Just as the leaves never fall from the trees with the passage of the Spring season, the lovers never experience any weakening of their torrid passion with the passage of time. The piper painted on the urn continues to play fresh, lively tunes. He does not get tired or run short of ideas for fresh tunes.
The narrator wishes the lovers to remain immersed in their eternal embrace. He wishes them not to be like human beings whose passion diminishes and becomes a mundane habit of life. The ‘parched tongue’ and ‘burning forehead’ are the expressions the narrator uses to the withering passion, and worldly worries that diminish the intensity of romance in ordinary human beings that we all are.
——————————————————–The rest of the poem will be posted tomorrow.——————–