Ode to a Nightingale-John Keats

Ode to a Nightingale
by
John Keats 1884.
read by Sam Dastor
rnaudioproductions for http://www.ipodity.com/
http://www.allcast.co.uk/



MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.




O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:




Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.




Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.




I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.




Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod.




Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.




Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toil me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

Audio created by Robert Nichol AudioProductions
london 1995 all rights reserved

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[waasapanin]

a lovely reading of a lovely poem.

[ILILA]

I really like this.

Thanks for sharing ;)

[beradification]

best by far, keats is a legend

[THEMEVENTS]

this is the best of the three Ive listened to on You tube

[jockdoubleday]

great reading! some minor points:

"amid the alien corn" not "among the alien corn"

"But, in embalmed darkness" not "But, in the embalmed darkness"

"No hungry generations tread" not "No hungry generation tread"

("forth" omission comment above also noted:)

[cool2kitty]

@bretskiki In addition to the lines quoted by HurricaneHeidi, I believe the following lines reflect bitterness:

"Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well/ As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf."

[thibautadavy]

One of my two favorite readings of this poem. The other being Ben Whishaw's in Bright Star.

Congratulations, sincerely!

[TheLassie5]

The following lines were most likely written in memory of Keat's 19-year-old brother's death to TB. Keats was his sole nurse and caregiver and his brother died in his arms. This poem was written the following spring.

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs,

[HurricaneHeidi]

He seems to be describing a hospital, and reflecting on his having no future to look forward to. He died of tuberculosis so young... at the age of only 25.

[HurricaneHeidi]

I believe the following lines reflect keat's bitterness at his terminal condition - seems he must have been in a hospital:

"The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;

Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs,

Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. "

[bretskiki]

...can i have a question pls!!

..which lines reflect keat's deep bitterness??

...can you pls answer it.

[keepthemusicplaying0]

Just beautiful, thank you!!