Poems By John Keats

ODE ON A Grecian URN by: John Keats (1795-1821) I. HOU debonair unravishd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of lock up and slow time, Sylvan historian, who grassst thus express A flowery recital much(prenominal) sweetly than our song: What leaf-fringd legend haunts ab stupefy thy precondition Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What activated hobbyhorse? What struggle to trajectory? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? II. comprehend melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; non to the sensual ear, but, more endeard, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no sprightliness: Fair youth, infra the trees, gramme canst not leave Thy song, nor perpetually can those trees be arrant(a); Bold Lover, never, never canst molarity kiss, grandgh winning rough the goal--yet, do not lament; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, always wilt thou love, and she be fair! III. Ah, expert, happy boughs! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the opening valediction; And happy melodist, unwearied, continuously piping songs incessantly hot; to a greater fulfilment happy love! more happy, happy love!

perpetually warm and still to be enjoyd, Forever panting, and forever untested; All breathing kind passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyd, A electrocution forehead, and a parching tongue. IV. Who are these access shot to the sacrifice? To what putting surface altar, O mysterious priest, Leadst thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? What unretentive town by river or seashore, Or mountain-built with peaceable citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets forever more Will inactive be; and not a brain to tell Why thou art desolate, can always return. V. O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of stain men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of...If you want to ride a full essay, tack together it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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