John Keats An Overview John Keats lived only twenty-five years and four months (1795-1821), yet his

poeti a hievement is e!traordinary" #is writin$ areer lasted a little more than five years (181%182&), and three of his $reat odes--'(de to a )i$htin$ale,' '(de on a *re ian +rn,' and '(de on ,elan holy'--were written in one month" ,ost of his ma-or poems were written .etween his twenty-third and twenty-fourth years, and all his poems were written .y his twenty-fifth year" /n this .rief period, he produ ed poems that ran0 him as one of the $reat 1n$lish poets" #e also wrote letters whi h 2"3" 1liot alls 'the most nota.le and the most important ever written .y any 1n$lish poet"' #is $enius was not $enerally per eived durin$ his lifetime or immediately after his death" Keats, dyin$, e!pe ted his poetry to .e for$otten, as the epitaph he wrote for his tom.stone indi ates4 '#ere lies one whose name was writ in water"' 5ut nineteenth entury riti s and readers did ome to appre iate him, thou$h, for the most part, they had only a partial understandin$ of his wor0" 2hey saw Keats as a sensual poet6 they fo used on his vivid, on rete ima$ery6 on his portrayal of the physi al and the passionate6 and on his immersion in the here and now" (ne nineteenth entury riti went so far as to assert not merely that Keats had 'a mind onstitutionally inapt for a.stra t thin0in$,' .ut that he 'had no mind"' Keats7s mu h-8uoted out ry, '( for a life of 3ensation rather than of 2hou$hts9' (letter, )ovem.er 22, 1817) has .een ited to support this view" :ith the twentieth entury, the per eption of Keats7s poetry e!panded6 he was and is praised for his seriousness and thou$hfulness, for his dealin$ with diffi ult human onfli ts and artisti issues, and for his impassioned mental pursuit of truth" Keats advo ated livin$ 'the ripest, fullest e!perien e that one is apa.le of'6 he .elieved that what determines truth is e!perien e ('a!ioms are not a!ioms until they are proved upon our pulses')" 2he pu.li ation of Keats7s letters, with their 0een intelle tional 8uestionin$ and on ern with moral and artisti pro.lems, ontri.uted to this re-assessment" #is letters throw li$ht on his own poeti pra ti es and provide insi$ht into writin$ in $eneral" Keats and Romanticism Keats .elon$ed to a literary movement alled romanti ism" ;omanti poets, .e ause of their theories of literature and life, were drawn to lyri poetry6 they even developed a new form of ode, often alled the romanti meditative ode" 2he literary riti Ja 0 3tillin$er des ri.es the typi al movement of the romanti ode4 2he poet, unhappy with the real world, es apes or attempts to es ape into the ideal" <isappointed in his mental fli$ht, he returns to the real world" +sually he returns .e ause human .ein$s annot live in the ideal or .e ause he has not found what he was see0in$" 5ut the e!perien e han$es his understandin$ of his situation, of the world, et "6 his views=feelin$s at the end of the poem differ si$nifi antly from those he held at the .e$innin$ of the poem" Themes in Keats's Major Poems <ou$las 5ush noted that 'Keats7s important poems are related to, or $row dire tly out of"""inner onfli ts"' >or e!ample, pain and pleasure are intertwined in '(de to a )i$htin$ale' and '(de on a *re ian +rn'6 love is intertwined with pain, and pleasure is intertwined with death in '?a 5elle <ame 3ans ,er i,' '2he 1ve of 3t" @$nes,' and '/sa.ella6 or, the Aot of 5asil"' 1

Bleanth 5roo0s defines the parado! that is the theme of '(de to a )i$htin$ale' somewhat differently4 'the world of ima$ination offers a release from the painful world of a tuality, yet at the same time it renders the world of a tuality more painful .y ontrast"' (ther onfli ts appear in Keats7s poetry4

transient sensation or passion = endurin$ art dream or vision = reality -oy = melan holy the ideal = the real mortal = immortal life = death separation = onne tion .ein$ immersed in passion = desirin$ to es ape passion

Keats often asso iated love and pain .oth in his life and in his poetry" #e wrote of a youn$ woman he found atta tive, ':hen she omes into a room she ma0es an impression the same as the 5eauty of a ?eopardess"""" / should li0e her to ruin me"""' ?ove and death are intertwined in '/sa.ella6 or, the Aot of 5asil,' '5ri$ht 3tar,' '2he 1ve of 3t" @$nes,' and '?a 5elle <ame sans ,er i"' 2he >atal :oman (the woman whom it is destru tive to love, li0e 3alome, ?ilith, and Bleopatra) appears in '?a 5elle <ame sans ,er i' and '?amia"' /dentity is an issue in his view of the poet and for the dreamers in his odes (e"$", '(de to a )i$htin$ale') and narrative poems" (f the poeti hara ter, he says, '""" it is not itself--it has no self--it is every thin$ and nothin$--it has no hara ter--it en-oys li$ht and shade--it lives in $usto, .e it foul or fair, hi$h or low, ri$ht or poor, mean or elevated"""' #e alls the poet ' hameleon"' Keats's Imagery Keats7s ima$ery ran$es amon$ all our physi al sensations4 si$ht, hearin$, taste, tou h, smell, temperature, wei$ht, pressure, hun$er, thirst, se!uality, and movement" Keats repeatedly om.ines different senses in one ima$e, that is, he attri.utes the trait(s) of one sense to another, a pra ti e alled synaesthesia" #is synaestheti ima$ery performs two ma-or fun tions in his poems4 it is part of their sensual effe t, and the om.inin$ of senses normally e!perien ed as separate su$$ests an underlyin$ unity of dissimilar happenin$s, the oneness of all forms of life" ;i hard #" >o$le alls these ima$es the produ t of his 'unrivaled a.ility to a.sor., sympathiCe with, and humaniCe natural o.-e ts"'

Major Works Endymion, while still displayin$ some of the flaws of Keats7s earlier poetry, was also $ra ed with mytholo$i al, poeti al, and artisti ima$ery" 2he story itself, hroni lin$ the love of 1ndymion and <iana, is .ased in myth, althou$h Keats7s 0nowled$e of it was ta0en from other 1n$lish renderin$s of the myth, as Keats never learned *ree0" 2he primary theme of the poem has .een des ri.ed .y riti s 3amuel B" Bhew and ;i hard <" @lti 0 (19%8) as 'the 8uest of a unity trans endin$ the flu! of the phenomenal world"' Keats7s Hyperion, pu.lished in his 182& volume of poetry, was followed .y the in omplete The Fall of Hyperion, whi h is re$arded .y most riti s as Keats7s attempt to revise the earlier wor0" Hyperion and The Fall of Hyperion, li0e Endymion, fo us on mytholo$i al themes6 the story enters on the 2itans7 2

fall to the triumphant (lympians" 3ome riti s have su$$ested that the history of the >ren h ;evolution played some role in Keats7s onstru tion of the poem" (ther wor0s onsidered to .e amon$ Keats7s $reatest are the odes pu.lished in the 182& volume, in ludin$ '(de to Asy he,' '(de to a )i$htin$ale,' and '(de on a *re ian +rn"' 2he poems e!amine su h themes as the relationship .etween art and life, and the nature of human sufferin$"

Keats's Odes Conte t /n his short life, John Keats wrote some of the most .eautiful and endurin$ poems in the 1n$lish lan$ua$e" @mon$ his $reatest a hievements is his se8uen e of si! lyri odes, written .etween ,ar h and 3eptem.er 1819--astonishin$ly, when Keats was only twenty-four years old" Keats7s poeti a hievement is made all the more mira ulous .y the a$e at whi h it ended4 #e died .arely a year after finishin$ the ode '2o @utumn,' in >e.ruary 1821" Keats was .orn in 1795 to a lower-middle- lass family in ?ondon" :hen he was still youn$, he lost .oth his parents" #is mother su um.ed to tu.er ulosis, the disease that eventually 0illed Keats himself" :hen he was fifteen, Keats entered into a medi al apprenti eship, and eventually he went to medi al s hool" 5ut .y the time he turned twenty, he a.andoned his medi al trainin$ to devote himself wholly to poetry" #e pu.lished his first .oo0 of poems in 18176 they drew sava$e riti al atta 0s from an influential ma$aCine, and his se ond .oo0 attra ted omparatively little noti e when it appeared the ne!t year" Keats7s .rother 2om died of tu.er ulosis in <e em.er 1818, and Keats moved in with a friend in #ampstead" /n #ampstead, he fell in love with a youn$ $irl named >anny 5rawne" <urin$ this time, Keats .e$an to e!perien e the e!traordinary reative inspiration that ena.led him to write, at a franti rate, all his .est poems in the time .efore he died" #is health and his finan es de lined sharply, and he set off for /taly in the summer of 182&, hopin$ the warmer limate mi$ht restore his health" #e never returned home" #is death .rou$ht to an untimely end one of the most e!traordinary poeti areers of the nineteenth entury--indeed, one of the most e!traordinary poeti areers of all time" Keats never a hieved widespread re o$nition for his wor0 in his own life (his .itter re8uest for his tom.stone4 '#ere lies one whose name was writ on water'), .ut he was sustained .y a deep inner onfiden e in his own a.ility" 3hortly .efore his death, he remar0ed that he .elieved he would .e amon$ 'the 1n$lish poets' when he had died" Keats was one of the most important fi$ures of early nineteenth- entury ;omanti ism, a movement that espoused the san tity of emotion and ima$ination, and privile$ed the .eauty of the natural world" ,any of the ideas and themes evident in Keats7s $reat odes are 8uintessentially ;omanti on erns4 the .eauty of nature, the relation .etween ima$ination and reativity, the response of the passions to .eauty and sufferin$, and the transien e of human life in time" 2he sumptuous sensory lan$ua$e in whi h the odes are written, their idealisti on ern for .eauty and truth, and their e!pressive a$ony in the fa e of death are all ;omanti preo upations--thou$h at the same time, they are all uni8uely Keats7s"

2a0en to$ether, the odes do not e!a tly tell a story--there is no unifyin$ 'plot' and no re urrin$ hara ters--and there is little eviden e that Keats intended them to stand to$ether as a sin$le wor0 of art" )evertheless, the e!traordinary num.er of su$$estive interrelations .etween them is impossi.le to i$nore" 2he odes e!plore and develop the same themes, parta0e of many of the same approa hes and ima$es, and, ordered in a ertain way, e!hi.it an unmista0a.le psy holo$i al development" 2his is not to say that the poems do not stand on their own--they do, ma$nifi ently6 one of the $reatest feli ities of the se8uen e is that it an .e entered at any point, viewed wholly or partially from any perspe tive, and still prove movin$ and rewardin$ to read" 2here has .een a $reat deal of riti al de.ate over how to treat the voi es that spea0 the poems--are they meant to .e read as thou$h a sin$le person spea0s them all, or did Keats invent a different persona for ea h odeE 2here is no ri$ht answer to the 8uestion, .ut it is possi.le that the 8uestion itself is wron$4 2he ons iousness at wor0 in ea h of the odes is unmista0a.ly Keats7s own" (f ourse, the poems are not e!pli itly auto.io$raphi al (it is unli0ely that all the events really happened to Keats), .ut $iven their sin erity and their shared frame of themati referen e, there is no reason to thin0 that they do not ome from the same part of Keats7s mind--that is to say, that they are not all told .y the same part of Keats7s refle ted self" /n that sense, there is no harm in treatin$ the odes a se8uen e of utteran es told in the same voi e" 2he psy holo$i al pro$ress from '(de on /ndolen e' to '2o @utumn' is intimately personal, and a $reat deal of that intima y is lost if one .e$ins to ima$ine that the odes are spo0en .y a se8uen e of fi tional hara ters" :hen you thin0 of 'the spea0er' of these poems, thin0 of Keats as he would have ima$ined himself while writin$ them" @s you tra e the spea0er7s tra-e tory from the num. drowsiness of '/ndolen e' to the 8uiet wisdom of '@utumn,' try to hear the voi e develop and han$e under the $uidan e of Keats7s e!traordinary lan$ua$e" /n '(de to a )i$htin$ale' and '(de on a *re ian +rn,' Keats tries to free himself from the world of han$e .y identifyin$ with the ni$htin$ale, representin$ nature, or the urn, representin$ art" 2hese odes, as well as '2he (de to Asy he' and the '(de to ,elan holy,' present the poet as dreamer6 the 8uestion in these odes, as well as in '?a 5elle <ame 3ans ,er i' and '2he 1ve of 3t" @$nes,' is how Keats hara teriCes the dream or vision" /s it a positive e!perien e whi h enri hes the dreamerE or is it a ne$ative e!perien e whi h has the potential to ut off the dreamer from the real world and destroy himE :hat happens to the dreamers who do not awa0en from the dream or do not awa0en soon enou$hE

Keats ! Ode to a "ightinga#e

$%mmary 2he spea0er opens with a de laration of his own hearta he" #e feels num., as thou$h he had ta0en a dru$ only a moment a$o" #e is addressin$ a ni$htin$ale he hears sin$in$ somewhere in the forest and says that his 'drowsy num.ness' is not from envy of the ni$htin$ale7s happiness, .ut rather from sharin$ it too ompletely6 he is 'too happy' that the ni$htin$ale sin$s the musi of summer from amid some unseen plot of $reen trees and shadows" /n the se ond stanCa, the spea0er lon$s for the o.livion of al ohol, e!pressin$ his wish for wine, 'a drau$ht of vinta$e,' that would taste li0e the ountry and li0e peasant dan es, and let him 'leave the world unseen' and disappear into the dim forest with the ni$htin$ale" /n the third stanCa, he e!plains his desire to fade away, sayin$ he would li0e to for$et the trou.les the ni$htin$ale has never 0nown4 'the weariness, the fever, and the fret' %

of human life, with its ons iousness that everythin$ is mortal and nothin$ lasts" Fouth '$rows pale, and spe tre-thin, and dies,' and '.eauty annot 0eep her lustrous eyes"' /n the fourth stanCa, the spea0er tells the ni$htin$ale to fly away, and he will follow, not throu$h al ohol (')ot harioted .y 5a hus and his pards'), .ut throu$h poetry, whi h will $ive him 'viewless win$s"' #e says he is already with the ni$htin$ale and des ri.es the forest $lade, where even the moonli$ht is hidden .y the trees, e! ept the li$ht that .rea0s throu$h when the .reeCes .low the .ran hes" /n the fifth stanCa, the spea0er says that he annot see the flowers in the $lade, .ut an $uess them 'in em.almed dar0ness'4 white hawthorne, e$lantine, violets, and the mus0-rose, 'the murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves"' /n the si!th stanCa, the spea0er listens in the dar0 to the ni$htin$ale, sayin$ that he has often .een 'half in love' with the idea of dyin$ and alled <eath soft names in many rhymes" 3urrounded .y the ni$htin$ale7s son$, the spea0er thin0s that the idea of death seems ri her than ever, and he lon$s to ' ease upon the midni$ht with no pain' while the ni$htin$ale pours its soul e stati ally forth" /f he were to die, the ni$htin$ale would ontinue to sin$, he says, .ut he would 'have ears in vain' and .e no lon$er a.le to hear" /n the seventh stanCa, the spea0er tells the ni$htin$ale that it is immortal, that it was not '.orn for death"' #e says that the voi e he hears sin$in$ has always .een heard, .y an ient emperors and lowns, .y homesi 0 ;uth6 he even says the son$ has often harmed open ma$i windows loo0in$ out over 'the foam = (f perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn"' /n the ei$hth stanCa, the word forlorn tolls li0e a .ell to restore the spea0er from his preo upation with the ni$htin$ale and .a 0 into himself" @s the ni$htin$ale flies farther away from him, he laments that his ima$ination has failed him and says that he an no lon$er re all whether the ni$htin$ale7s musi was 'a vision, or a wa0in$ dream"' )ow that the musi is $one, the spea0er annot re all whether he himself is awa0e or asleep" &orm ?i0e most of the other odes, '(de to a )i$htin$ale' is written in ten-line stanCas" #owever, unli0e most of the other poems, it is metri ally varia.le--thou$h not so mu h as '(de to Asy he"' 2he first seven and last two lines of ea h stanCa are written in iam.i pentameter6 the ei$hth line of ea h stanCa is written in trimeter, with only three a ented sylla.les instead of five" ')i$htin$ale' also differs from the other odes in that its rhyme s heme is the same in every stanCa (every other ode varies the order of rhyme in the final three or four lines e! ept '2o Asy he,' whi h has the loosest stru ture of all the odes)" 1a h stanCa in ')i$htin$ale' is rhymed @5@5B<1B<1, Keats7s most .asi s heme throu$hout the odes" Themes :ith '(de to a )i$htin$ale,' Keats7s spea0er .e$ins his fullest and deepest e!ploration of the themes of reative e!pression and the mortality of human life" /n this ode, the transien e of life and the tra$edy of old a$e ('where palsy sha0es a few, sad, last $ray hairs, = :here youth $rows pale, and spe tre-thin, and dies') is set a$ainst the eternal renewal of the ni$htin$ale7s fluid musi ('2hou wast not .orn for death, immortal .ird9')" 2he spea0er reprises the 'drowsy num.ness' he e!perien ed in '(de on /ndolen e,' .ut where in '/ndolen e' that num.ness was a si$n of dis onne tion from e!perien e, in ')i$htin$ale' it is a si$n of too full a onne tion4 '.ein$ too happy in thine happiness,' as the spea0er tells the ni$htin$ale" #earin$ the son$ of the ni$htin$ale, the spea0er lon$s to flee the human world and -oin the .ird" #is first thou$ht is to rea h the .ird7s state throu$h 5

al ohol--in the se ond stanCa, he lon$s for a 'drau$ht of vinta$e' to transport him out of himself" 5ut after his meditation in the third stanCa on the transien e of life, he re-e ts the idea of .ein$ ' harioted .y 5a hus and his pards' (5a hus was the ;oman $od of wine and was supposed to have .een arried .y a hariot pulled .y leopards) and hooses instead to em.ra e, for the first time sin e he refused to follow the fi$ures in '/ndolen e,' 'the viewless win$s of Aoesy"' 2he rapture of poeti inspiration mat hes the endless reative rapture of the ni$htin$ale7s musi and lets the spea0er, in stanCas five throu$h seven, ima$ine himself with the .ird in the dar0ened forest" 2he e stati musi even en oura$es the spea0er to em.ra e the idea of dyin$, of painlessly su um.in$ to death while enraptured .y the ni$htin$ale7s musi and never e!perien in$ any further pain or disappointment" 5ut when his meditation auses him to utter the word 'forlorn,' he omes .a 0 to himself, re o$niCin$ his fan y for what it is--an ima$ined es ape from the ines apa.le ('@dieu9 the fan y annot heat so well = @s she is fam7d to do, de eivin$ elf')" @s the ni$htin$ale flies away, the intensity of the spea0er7s e!perien e has left him sha0en, una.le to remem.er whether he is awa0e or asleep" /n '/ndolen e,' the spea0er re-e ted all artisti effort" /n 'Asy he,' he was willin$ to em.ra e the reative ima$ination, .ut only for its own internal pleasures" 5ut in the ni$htin$ale7s son$, he finds a form of outward e!pression that translates the wor0 of the ima$ination into the outside world, and this is the dis overy that ompels him to em.ra e Aoesy7s 'viewless win$s' at last" 2he 'art' of the ni$htin$ale is endlessly han$ea.le and renewa.le6 it is musi without re ord, e!istin$ only in a perpetual present" @s .efits his ele.ration of musi , the spea0er7s lan$ua$e, sensually ri h thou$h it is, serves to suppress the sense of si$ht in favor of the other senses" #e an ima$ine the li$ht of the moon, '5ut here there is no li$ht'6 he 0nows he is surrounded .y flowers, .ut he ' annot see what flowers' are at his feet" 2his suppression will find its mat h in '(de on a *re ian +rn,' whi h is in many ways a ompanion poem to '(de to a )i$htin$ale"' /n the later poem, the spea0er will finally onfront a reated art-o.-e t not su.-e t to any of the limitations of time6 in ')i$htin$ale,' he has a hieved reative e!pression and has pla ed his faith in it, .ut that e!pression--the ni$htin$ale7s son$--is spontaneous and without physi al manifestation"

Keats ! Ode on a 'recian (rn

$%mmary

/n the first stanCa, the spea0er stands .efore an an ient *re ian urn and addresses it" #e is preo upied with its depi tion of pi tures froCen in time" /t is the 'still unravish7d .ride of 8uietness,' the 'foster- hild of silen e and slow time"' #e also des ri.es the urn as a 'historian' that an tell a story" #e wonders a.out the fi$ures on the side of the urn and as0s what le$end they depi t and from where they ome" #e loo0s at a pi ture that seems to depi t a $roup of men pursuin$ a $roup of women and wonders what their story ould .e4 ':hat mad pursuitE :hat stru$$le to es apeE = :hat pipes and tim.relsE :hat wild e stasyE' /n the se ond stanCa, the spea0er loo0s at another pi ture on the urn, this time of a youn$ man playin$ a pipe, lyin$ with his lover .eneath a $lade of trees" 2he spea0er says that the piper7s 'unheard' melodies are sweeter than mortal melodies .e ause they are G

unaffe ted .y time" #e tells the youth that, thou$h he an never 0iss his lover .e ause he is froCen in time, he should not $rieve, .e ause her .eauty will never fade" /n the third stanCa, he loo0s at the trees surroundin$ the lovers and feels happy that they will never shed their leaves" #e is happy for the piper .e ause his son$s will .e 'for ever new,' and happy that the love of the .oy and the $irl will last forever, unli0e mortal love, whi h lapses into '.reathin$ human passion' and eventually vanishes, leavin$ .ehind only a '.urnin$ forehead, and a par hin$ ton$ue"' /n the fourth stanCa, the spea0er e!amines another pi ture on the urn, this one of a $roup of villa$ers leadin$ a heifer to .e sa rifi ed" #e wonders where they are $oin$ ('2o what $reen altar, ( mysterious priest"""') and from where they have ome" #e ima$ines their little town, empty of all its itiCens, and tells it that its streets will 'for evermore' .e silent, for those who have left it, froCen on the urn, will never return" /n the final stanCa, the spea0er a$ain addresses the urn itself, sayin$ that it, li0e 1ternity, 'doth tease us out of thou$ht"' #e thin0s that when his $eneration is lon$ dead, the urn will remain, tellin$ future $enerations its eni$mati lesson4 '5eauty is truth, truth .eauty"' 2he spea0er says that that is the only thin$ the urn 0nows and the only thin$ it needs to 0now" &orm '(de on a *re ian +rn' follows the same ode-stanCa stru ture as the '(de on ,elan holy,' thou$h it varies more the rhyme s heme of the last three lines of ea h stanCa" 1a h of the five stanCas in '*re ian +rn' is ten lines lon$, metered in a relatively pre ise iam.i pentameter, and divided into a two part rhyme s heme, the last three lines of whi h are varia.le" 2he first seven lines of ea h stanCa follow an @5@5B<1 rhyme s heme, .ut the se ond o urren es of the B<1 sounds do not follow the same order" /n stanCa one, lines seven throu$h ten are rhymed <B16 in stanCa two, B1<6 in stanCas three and four, B<16 and in stanCa five, <B1, -ust as in stanCa one" @s in other odes (espe ially '@utumn' and ',elan holy'), the two-part rhyme s heme (the first part made of @5 rhymes, the se ond of B<1 rhymes) reates the sense of a two-part themati stru ture as well" 2he first four lines of ea h stanCa rou$hly define the su.-e t of the stanCa, and the last si! rou$hly e!pli ate or develop it" (@s in other odes, this is only a $eneral rule, true of some stanCas more than others6 stanCas su h as the fifth do not onne t rhyme s heme and themati stru ture losely at all") Themes /f the '(de to a )i$htin$ale' portrays Keats7s spea0er7s en$a$ement with the fluid e!pressiveness of musi , the '(de on a *re ian +rn' portrays his attempt to en$a$e with the stati immo.ility of s ulpture" 2he *re ian urn, passed down throu$h ountless enturies to the time of the spea0er7s viewin$, e!ists outside of time in the human sense--it does not a$e, it does not die, and indeed it is alien to all su h on epts" /n the spea0er7s meditation, this reates an intri$uin$ parado! for the human fi$ures arved into the side of the urn4 2hey are free from time, .ut they are simultaneously froCen in time" 2hey do not have to onfront a$in$ and death (their love is 'for ever youn$'), .ut neither an they have e!perien e (the youth an never 0iss the maiden6 the fi$ures in the pro ession an never return to their homes)" 2he spea0er attempts three times to en$a$e with s enes arved into the urn6 ea h time he as0s different 8uestions of it" /n the first stanCa, he e!amines the pi ture of the 'mad pursuit' and wonders what a tual story lies .ehind the pi ture4 ':hat men or $ods are 7

theseE :hat maidens lothE' (f ourse, the urn an never tell him the whos, whats, whens, and wheres of the stories it depi ts, and the spea0er is for ed to a.andon this line of 8uestionin$" /n the se ond and third stanCas, he e!amines the pi ture of the piper playin$ to his lover .eneath the trees" #ere, the spea0er tries to ima$ine what the e!perien e of the fi$ures on the urn must .e li0e6 he tries to identify with them" #e is tempted .y their es ape from temporality and attra ted to the eternal newness of the piper7s unheard son$ and the eternally un han$in$ .eauty of his lover" #e thin0s that their love is 'far a.ove' all transient human passion, whi h, in its se!ual e!pression, inevita.ly leads to an a.atement of intensity--when passion is satisfied, all that remains is a wearied physi ality4 a sorrowful heart, a '.urnin$ forehead,' and a 'par hin$ ton$ue"' #is re olle tion of these onditions seems to remind the spea0er that he is ines apa.ly su.-e t to them, and he a.andons his attempt to identify with the fi$ures on the urn" /n the fourth stanCa, the spea0er attempts to thin0 a.out the fi$ures on the urn as thou$h they were e!perien in$ human time, ima$inin$ that their pro ession has an ori$in (the 'little town') and a destination (the '$reen altar')" 5ut all he an thin0 is that the town will forever .e deserted4 /f these people have left their ori$in, they will never return to it" /n this sense he onfronts head-on the limits of stati art6 if it is impossi.le to learn from the urn the whos and wheres of the 'real story' in the first stanCa, it is impossi.le ever to 0now the ori$in and the destination of the fi$ures on the urn in the fourth" /t is true that the spea0er shows a ertain 0ind of pro$ress in his su essive attempts to en$a$e with the urn" #is idle uriosity in the first attempt $ives way to a more deeply felt identifi ation in the se ond, and in the third, the spea0er leaves his own on erns .ehind and thin0s of the pro essional purely on its own terms, thin0in$ of the 'little town' with a real and $enerous feelin$" 5ut ea h attempt ultimately ends in failure" 2he third attempt fails simply .e ause there is nothin$ more to say--on e the spea0er onfronts the silen e and eternal emptiness of the little town, he has rea hed the limit of stati art6 on this su.-e t, at least, there is nothin$ more the urn an tell him" /n the final stanCa, the spea0er presents the on lusions drawn from his three attempts to en$a$e with the urn" #e is overwhelmed .y its e!isten e outside of temporal han$e, with its a.ility to 'tease' him 'out of thou$ht = @s doth eternity"' /f human life is a su ession of 'hun$ry $enerations,' as the spea0er su$$ests in ')i$htin$ale,' the urn is a separate and self- ontained world" /t an .e a 'friend to man,' as the spea0er says, .ut it annot .e mortal6 the 0ind of aestheti onne tion the spea0er e!perien es with the urn is ultimately insuffi ient to human life" 2he final two lines, in whi h the spea0er ima$ines the urn spea0in$ its messa$e to man0ind--'5eauty is truth, truth .eauty,' have proved amon$ the most diffi ult to interpret in the Keats anon" @fter the urn utters the eni$mati phrase '5eauty is truth, truth .eauty,' no one an say for sure who 'spea0s' the on lusion, 'that is all = Fe 0now on earth, and all ye need to 0now"' /t ould .e the spea0er addressin$ the urn, and it ould .e the urn addressin$ man0ind" /f it is the spea0er addressin$ the urn, then it would seem to indi ate his awareness of its limitations4 2he urn may not need to 0now anythin$ .eyond the e8uation of .eauty and truth, .ut the ompli ations of human life ma0e it impossi.le for su h a simple and self- ontained phrase to e!press suffi iently anythin$ a.out ne essary human 0nowled$e" /f it is the urn addressin$ man0ind, then the phrase has rather the wei$ht of an important lesson, as thou$h .eyond all the ompli ations of human life, all 8

human .ein$s need to 0now on earth is that .eauty and truth are one and the same" /t is lar$ely a matter of personal interpretation whi h readin$ to a ept"

Keats ! )a *e##e +ame sans Merci ! 2he role of the nature

/n KeatsH La Belle Dame sans Merci, the role of nature is relatively simple" /n this poem, nature represents all that the prota$onist (the 0ni$ht) loves and needs" (.viously that desire is em.odied in the lady he meets in the meadows, .ut the su.tle sym.olism within nature runs throu$hout the poem as well" /f everythin$ is ri$ht with the 0ni$ht, nature is .lossomin$" /ndeed, perhaps part of the 0ni$ht himself is nature, as hinted at in stanCa three when the unseen 8uestioner omments I/ see a lily on thy .row=:ith an$uish moist and fever dew=@nd on thy hee0s a fadin$ rose=>ast withereth too"J (n the surfa e, the two flowers an .e ta0en to desi$nate the olour of the 0ni$htHs fa ial features - he is o.viously tormentin$ himself over some matter, and it is ausin$ him to sweat and .e ome pale" #owever, that the metaphors used are flowers represents the for e, the almost representation of nature within the 0ni$ht" /n literature, the sun is always .ri$hter and the flowers always hold more .eauty when the main hara ter is $oin$ throu$h happy times" #umans tend to asso iate $ood weather and health in the land around with $ood times in hara tersH lives (and vi e versa)" 2his is e!a tly what happens in ?a 5elle <ame sans ,er i" /t is even evident from the very first line the 0ni$ht says, in stanCa four4 I/ met a lady in the meadsJ" @ meadow is the perfe t lo ation in this instan e for the 0ni$htHs woeful tale to .e$in" /n the readerHs mind, it is a simple settin$, .ut learly a pla e of $reat natural $rowth" :e ima$ine everythin$ as .ri$ht and $rassovered, with perhaps a sprin0lin$ of flowers here and there" 2his is the very essen e of nature at her .est, and so .e$ins the 0ni$htHs happiest time" 3oon after the 0ni$ht and the lady meet, he ma0es three $arlands for her out of the flowers found in the meadow" 3tanCa five, where this event an .e found, is entirely a metaphor for ma0in$ love" 2he 0ni$ht, in a way, is nature, so when the lady puts on the $arlands, she is a tually adornin$ herself with the 0ni$ht" 2o solidify the lovema0in$ theory, the last two lines spea0 of the ladyHs rea tion4 I3he loo0ed at me as she did love=and made sweet moan"J 2he onne tion is 8uite evident - the lady is en-oyin$ the 0ni$htHs advan es intensely, in .oth the surfa e s ene and the se!ual underneath"

2he same sym.olism that is true for stanCa five also applies to seven" >inally, we see that perhaps the lady represents nature in a way as well when she $ives the 0ni$ht Iroots of relish sweet=@nd honey wild, and manna dew"J 2hese thin$s are sweet, it is true, .ut have little real su.stan e" I,an does not live on .read alone6J li0ewise, one annot survive on honey alone" 2he Imanna dewJ is espe ially sym.oli " ,anna is the su.stan e sent .y *od to the /sraelites in order to survive in the wilderness" (.viously the lady annot have $iven the 0ni$ht real manna, .ut what she did $ive him he thin0s of as e8ual to that whi h *od $ave the hildren of /srael" #owever, she only $ave him manna dew" @s the 0ni$ht refle ts upon his en ounter, he spea0s of it in those terms .e ause, while at the time he thou$ht it was the stuff of life, the end-all .e-all of e!perien es, he realises now that it was merely a hoa!, and has no realsu.stan e" /n the final stanCa, the sym.olism is lear" I"""the sed$e is withered from the 9

la0e=@nd no .irds sin$J e!emplifies the 0ni$htHs intense sadness" 2he whole e!perien e an .e summed up in that nature meets somethin$ that loo0s li0e its ounterpart, .ut is rather its undoin$"

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