John Keats "Ode On A Grecian Urn" plus commentary

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 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, unwearièd,
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 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.




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.'

The second part is an unscripted commentary about what I saw when I viewed other peoples attempts at reading this poem.

Category:

Film & Animation

Tags:

• John
• Keats
• Ode
• On
• Grecian
• Urn
• Greece
• Gods
• Immortality
• poem
• poetry
• poet
• classical
• English

[AllErikaEclectica]

I totally appreciate the enthusiasm and intonation you have brought to bear on "Ode on a Grecian Urn". Rant on. It all needs to be said. Hope all is well and best from up north.

[Amiduffer]

@AllErikaEclectica Thanks Erika. Take care.

[usenetposts]

Now that I heard your comments at the end I wanted to add a second comment. The Waste Land, by T.S. Eliot is one you certainly know. I read impromptu half of it in the office one evening with Lord Moggy one evening, and listening back to that one on here I actually prefer my own reading, with all its fault, to the readings OF THE AUTHOR HIMSELF which are also up on YT, and in my view really disappointing!

[Amiduffer]

@usenetposts Hi Dave. TS Eliot is not a poet that I've read. And after checking the poem out, can say that its a most confusing mish mash of words. It gave me an unpleasant feeling.

[usenetposts]

@Amiduffer I used to think the poem was marvellous, but after hearing the author's own reading of it, I'm not entirely sure. Certainly on a scale of 1 to 10 where Catcher in the Rye is 1 and Finnegan's Wake is 10, the Waste Land probably rolls in with an 8.

[Amiduffer]

@usenetposts Did you know that Eliot was part of the cold war British Society for Cultural Freedom, a CIA/Fabian cultural operation to promote really degenerate anti-classical culture promoted by the Nashville Agrarians and financed by Warburg?

[usenetposts]

@Amiduffer I did not know that. Where did you get this information?

[usenetposts]

I feel like doing a response as my Cockney poetry fan character Alfie Mullard. I only did him once, but some of the radio guys are asking for more.