ODE ON A GRECIAN URN
Stanza One
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?
In the first stanza, the poet has paid a glowing tribute to the Grecian Urn. He calls the Urn
an “Untouched Bride Of Quietness”. According to the poet, the picture of Urn gives a more
sweet tale than the writers could and thus he calls the Urn “Sylvan Historian”.
By calling the Urn a Historian, Keats looks at the Urn closely and he can see the borders by a
line of leaves around the Pictures. He could see some images and speculate whether they are
God or men, some girls are being chased by wild boys, musical instruments are being played
and humans or gods become wild due to the music
Stanza Two
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!
In the second stanza, the poet looks at the specific picture where a piper plays some music.
Keats states that the songs of the piper will remain sweeter in fantasy or imagination and that
music is not for the physical ear but for the spiritual ears. He then describes a young man who is
playing a song by sitting under a tree.
As an Urn is immortal the young man will sing forever under the tree which will be full of leaves
forever. There is a bold lover who cannot kiss his lady love though he is near her as the picture
standstill. The painted lover and beloved will never lose their passion and old
beauty. The lovers’ freshness will never fade away.
Stanza Three
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.
The speaker now addresses the images of trees on the urn, calling their boughs happy
because they will never lose their leaves, and they will never have to say goodbye to
spring. The speaker then returns to the piper, whom they perceive as happy and
untiring—the piper will play new music for the rest of time. This fills the speaker with
thoughts of happiness and love. The figures on the urn will always have happiness to
look forward to, always be out of breath from the chase, and always be young. All the
passions of the living human world are far removed from the figures on the urn—and
these passions cause heartache, lovesick fevers, and thirst.
Stanza Four
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.
The speaker turns their attention to another scene on the urn, which appears to depict a
ceremonial progression. They notice the figure of a shadowy priest leading a cow, which
is mooing towards the sky and is dressed with ceremonial silks and flowers. This image
causes the speaker to wonder where those in the procession have come from—which
town by the river, coast, or mountain has fallen quiet because they have left on this
religiously significant morning? The speaker directly addresses this unknown town,
acknowledging that its streets are frozen forever in silence. There is no one left who can
explain why the town is empty.
Stanza Five
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 speaker takes a more zoomed-out look at the urn, noting its shape and apparent
attitude. They recap the urn's population of pictorial men and women and its depictions
of nature. To the speaker, the urn seems to offer a temporary respite from thought, in
the same way that eternity does. But this respite seems inhuman or false, leading the
speaker to call the urn cold. Inspired by this sentiment, the speaker notes that, when
everyone in their generation has died, the urn will still be around. It will become an
object of contemplation for people with different problems than the speaker's
generation. To them, the urn will say that beauty and truth are one and the same; this
fact is all that it is possible to know, and all that anybody actually needs to know.
