Ode on a Grecian Urn
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,Sylvan historian, who canst thus expressA flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shapeOf 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 unheardAre 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 leaveThy 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 shedYour 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 evermoreWill silent be; and not a soul to tellWhy thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with bredeOf marble men and maidens overwrought,With forest branches and the trodden weed;Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thoughtAs doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!When old age shall this generation waste,Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woeThan ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"--that is allYe know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Words in this poem
- unheard a.
- Not heard; not perceived by the ear; as, words unheard by those present.
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- melodist n.
- A composer or singer of melodies. [Cf. F. mélodiste.]
- unwearied a.
- Not wearied; not fatigued or tired; hence, persistent; not tiring or wearying; indefatigable.
- piping a.
- Playing on a musical pipe. [From Pipe, v.]
- parching a.
- Scorching; burning; drying.
- lowing n.
- The calling sound made by cows and other bovine animals.
- folk n.
- In Anglo-Saxon times, the people of a group of townships or villages; a community; a tribe. [AS. folc; akin to D. volk, OS. & OHG. folk, G. volk, Icel. f, Sw. & Dan. folk, Lith. pulkas crowd, and perh. to E. follow.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- evermore adv.
- During eternity; always; forever; for an indefinite period; at all times; -- often used substantively with for.
- overwrought p. p.
- Wrought upon excessively; overworked; overexcited.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- shalt
- 2d per. sing. of Shall.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Ode on a Grecian Urn is in the public domain. This text is taken from Keats: Poems Published in 1820 (Clarendon Press, 1909, ed. M. Robertson), Project Gutenberg ebook #23684; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn, in Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems (1820), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #23684, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/keats-1820/ode-on-a-grecian-urn.html, id L00185.
Form and metre
Ode on a Grecian Urn is 50 lines in 5 stanzas of 10 lines each. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 88%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 22% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABC---C- quietnessA · timeB · expressA · rhymeB · shapeC · both · arcady · loth · escapeC · ecstasy
- 2 ----ABCACB unheard · on · endear'd · tone · leaveA · bareB · kissC · grieveA · blissC · fairB
- 3 -A-ABCDBCD shed · adieuA · unwearied · newA · loveB · enjoy'dC · youngD · aboveB · cloy'dC · tongueD
- 4 -A-ABC-BC- sacrifice · priestA · skies · drestA · shoreB · citadelC · morn · evermoreB · tellC · return
- 5 ABABCDEDCE bredeA · overwroughtB · weedA · thoughtB · pastoralC · wasteD · woeE · say'stD · allC · knowE
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Sylvan historian, who canst thus express | 10 | /˘˘/˘···˘/ |
| A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·/· |
| What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Of deities or mortals, or of both, | 10 | ·/˘˘·/˘··· |
| In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? | 10 | ··˘/·/˘·˘/ |
| What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? | 10 | ·······/˘˘ |
| Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard | 10 | ·/˘˘····˘/ |
| Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave | 10 | ·········· |
| Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Though winning near the goal--yet, do not grieve; | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| And, happy melodist, unwearied, | 9 | ·/˘/˘˘˘/˘ |
| For ever piping songs for ever new; | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| More happy love! more happy, happy love! | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, | 10 | ·/˘·····˘/ |
| For ever panting, and for ever young; | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| All breathing human passion far above, | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, | 10 | ·····/˘˘·· |
| A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Who are these coming to the sacrifice? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| To what green altar, O mysterious priest, | 10 | ···/˘·˘/˘· |
| Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, | 10 | ···/˘/˘··· |
| And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| What little town by river or sea shore, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘/˘· |
| Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| And, little town, thy streets for evermore | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| Will silent be; and not a soul to tell | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. | 10 | ···/˘···˘/ |
| O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede | 10 | ·/˘··/˘··· |
| Of marble men and maidens overwrought, | 10 | ·/˘··/˘·˘/ |
| With forest branches and the trodden weed; | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! | 10 | ··˘/˘˘·/˘˘ |
| When old age shall this generation waste, | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe | 10 | ··˘/···/˘· |
| Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, | 10 | ·/········ |
| "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"--that is all | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. | 10 | ·········· |
Notes from the edition 5
Introduction and notes by M. Robertson, Keats: Poems Published in 1820 (Clarendon Press, 1909).
- Stanza 1, line 2 foster-child. The child of its maker, but preserved and cared for by these foster-parents.
- Stanza 1, line 7 Tempe was a famous glen in Thessaly.
Arcady. Arcadia, a very mountainous country, the centre of the Peloponnese, was the last stronghold of the aboriginal Greeks. The people were largely shepherds and goatherds, and Pan was a local Arcadian god till the Persian wars (c. 400 B.C.). In late Greek and in Roman pastoral poetry, as in modern literature, Arcadia is a sort of ideal land of poetic shepherds.
PAGE 114. ll. 17-18. Bold . . . goal. The one thing denied to the figures--actual life. But Keats quickly turns to their rich compensations.
PAGE 115. ll. 28-30. All . . . tongue. Cf. Shelley's To a Skylark:
Thou lovest--but ne'er knew love's sad satiety. - Stanza 4, line 1 seq. Keats is now looking at the other side of the urn. This verse strongly recalls certain parts of the frieze of the Parthenon (British Museum).
- Stanza 5, line 1 Attic, Greek.
brede, embroidery. Cf. Lamia, i. 159. Here used of carving. - Stanza 5, line 4 tease us out of thought. Make us think till thought is lost in mystery.
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