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? 

 

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, 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 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."

 

 

Structure of poem

The poem consists of five stanza of ten lines each written in aimbic pentameter. The first syllable is unaccented and the second accented and so on. The first seven lines of each stanza follow ABABCDE rhyme scheme, and the second of CDE sounds do not follow the same order.

 

 

Summary of the poem

The poem begins with the narrator standing before a Grecian urn, an ancient Greek pot that is covered with illustrations. He thinks that it is married to Quietness but the marriage is not consummated.  It is the “foster-child of silence and slow time.” He also describes the urn as a “historian” that can tell a story. The speaker looks closer  at urn and tries to figure out what’s there in the picture painted on it.  He wonders about the figures on the side of the urn and asks what legend they depict and from where they come. He looks at a picture that seems to depict a group of men chasing beautiful women through the forest. People are playing pipes and beating on drums. Everyone looks happy.

Not only the urn is better story teller than the poet but the musician in the painting have sweeter melodies that the poet. He Imagines melodies are lovelier than those heard by human ears. Therefore, the poet urges the musician pictured on the urn to play on. The poet then tries to listen to the music played by the people in the image. Even though he cannot listen the music with his ears, he tries listen with his spirit. He looks at the image of a young boy who is playing a song under a tree. The musician painted on the urn is happier because he will play his song as long as urn will survive. The trees will always be full and green.

Then the speaker addresses one of the guys who is chasing a maiden and says that the lover can never make out with the girl but he will always be in love with her and their love is better than actual love.

The speaker thinks about how happy the must be to keep all the leaves forever because it is always spring time in the world of urn. Then he talks about love and says that he jealous of the lover on the urn because they will always remain the same. Then speaker moves to a different section of the urn. Here he sees a priest is leading a cow to be sacrificed and people are watching it. He thinks that it is a holy day and that town will forever remain silent and deserted.

In the final stanza, the speaker again addresses the urn itself. Now he is not sure about urn’s eternity. Something about it seems cold to him. He thinks when everyone he knows is dead, the urn will still be around , telling the story to future generation. The man is teacher and friend to mankind. It repeats the same lesson to every generation; that truth and beauty are the same thing, and this knowledge is all we need to know.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty- that’s all

Ye know on the earth, and all ye need to know.

 

 

Critical analysis

The main thought of the poem is the idealized world painted on urn. The poem is about the three scenes painted on the urn. First is a wild a party of a group of people, second is the paying of instruments by some musicians and the third and the last is a ritual slaughter of a cow.

The poem presents a paradox in stanza two. It reflects the state of ideal versus reality and ideal love versus sorrows and he prefers the idealized love. In the final and the most famous lines of the poem, ‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’, Keats has expressed his love for the beauty of the nature. The poet tells the readers that the truth and beauty is equivalent, an idea that was current in the Romantic criticism and Philosophy of Keats’ time.