🔵 Endymion - A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever John Keats -Reading Analysis and Explanation

A Thing of Beauty is a joy for ever. Its loveliness increases. It will never pass into nothingness. But still will keep a bower quiet for us and a sleep full of sweet dreams and health and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, we are wreathing a flowery band to bind us to the earth, spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth, of gloomy days, of unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways. Made for our searching, yes, in spite of all, some shape of beauty moves away the poor from our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon for simple sheep, and such are daffodils with the green world they live in, and clear rills that for themselves are cooling against the hot season, the mid-forest break rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose bloom. And such, too, is the grandeur of the dunes we have imagined for the mighty dead, all lovely tales that we have heard or read, an endless fountain of immortal drink pouring unto us from heaven's brink. Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour. No, even as the trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temple's self, so does the moon. The passion's poesy glorifies glories infinite, a maturing light unto our souls, and bound to us so fast, that whether there be shine or gloom or cast, they always must be with us. Therefore tis with full happiness that I will trace the story of Endymion. The very music of the name has gone into my being, and each pleasant scene is growing fresh before me as the green of our own valleys. Nor while I cannot hear the city's din, nor while the early budders are just new, and run in mazes of the youngest hue about old forests, while the willow trails its delicate amber, and the dairy pails bring home increase of milk, and as the year grows lush in its juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer my little boat for many quiet hours with streams that deepen freshly into bowers. Many and many a verse I hope to write before the daisies, vermil, rimmed and white, hide in deep herbish. Ah, I'm about the globes of clover and sweet peas, I must be near the middle of my story. O may no wintry season bear and hoary! See it half finished, but let autumn bold, with universal tinge of sober gold, be all about me when I make an end. And now, at once adventuresome I send, my heralds sought into a wilderness, there let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress my uncertain path with green, that I may speed easily onward through flowers and weed. Okay, this poem by John Keats, this is about beauty, and it's saying that beauty is the most important thing in life, and once we actually experience beauty, this is something that stays with us forever, it becomes part of us. So he's saying that beauty is essential to life, and for Keats, for him the most beautiful thing in the world was nature, was flowers and the countryside and the insects, and actually our life gets difficult, this beauty stays with us when we're worried about the world around us, we're pressurized by the demands of ever-increasing demands of a world, of our world, then beauty is something with us that can take us through this, these difficult times, and I think he's also saying that by appreciating beauty, that beauty becomes part of you perceiving this nature. So let me just go through it, I think let's do it in bits. A thing of beauty is a joy forever, its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness. So joy, beauty is something that is eternal, it's something that lasts forever, and it just gets more and more beautiful inside us, and it will never leave us. A bower, quiet for us, so a bower is like an arch or a corner full of flowers and maybe a seat in the middle. A bower is like a place in a garden, I imagine roses all around the edge of it and maybe arched over your head as well. So beauty is like this wonderful place sitting in a garden, and a sleep full of dreams and health and quiet breathing. So experiencing beauty like this, it's like sweet dreams, and here he's starting to allude to endemion. Every morrow we are wreathing a flowery band to bind us to the earth. So the problem is that we spend our lives trying to make something to connect us to the earth, and spite of despondence of the inhuman dearth of noble natures. So in spite of being depressed, in spite of the fact that humans very often are rather ignoble, despite of the gloomy days of the unhealthy and darkened ways made for our searching. So this is talking about difficult times, gloomy days, unhealthy darkened ways, our bad habits and the things we do that we shouldn't do. But nature gets us through these problems, because here it comes. Yes, in spite of all, some shape of beauty moves away the pool from dark spirits. So a pool, it's like a pool of smoke, a covering of smoke, a shroud. So beauty takes all of these bad things and these problems away from our spirits. And then he gives some examples. Beauty such the sun, the moon, trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon for simple sheep. So beauty's like the sun, the moon, trees, making a shady boon. A boon is something that's very good for us. So a wonderful shady area, a boon, something extra. So these trees growing and creating somewhere where sheep can take the shade. And then he goes on with other things. And such are daffodils with the green world they live in. So daffodils and plants, they're really beautiful things. And clear rills that for themselves a cooling cupboard make against the hot season. Okay, I think geographically a rill is like a U shape, a trough in the land. Yeah, where you've got, it's the shape of a valley, not so sharp at the bottom, and not nearly so big. It's a place where the waters run down in the past. So he's now talking about the geography of the land is beautiful. And these rills make a cooling cupboard. Okay, a cupboard to me normally is a small group of trees, but this is a shady place. So wonderful natural places to be despite the mid forest break. I think this is like a clearing in the forest, rich with a sprinkling of fair musk rose bloom. So a clearing in the forest with and such too is the grandeur of the dooms we have imagined for the mighty dread. Okay, so these things are incredibly beautiful. And unfortunately, in our minds, we imagine all sorts of things. Okay, all lovely tales that we have heard or read, an endless fountain of immortal drink pouring unto us from the heavens bring. So from the edge of heaven metaphorically, all these lovely, beautiful things, all these things that are wondrous, nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour. So we feel this beauty that goes on forever. No, even as the trees that wisdom soon as soon dear as the temple self. So does the moon, the passion poecy goes on this sentence. Okay, so we don't feel these things temporarily. This is like the trees that grow, grow around a time these become beautiful, majestic trees, and we love the trees and the scenery of a place as much as that we feel. And the moon is also like this. And the passion of poetry has glory glories infinite. So they're absolutely fantastic. And these haunt us. Okay, these are it haunting in our soul. They stay there, and they grow on us. And they then cheer us up till they become a cheering light unto our souls and bound fast to us. So this wonder of nature becomes tied or part of us, that whether there be shine or gloom or cast, they must always must be with us or we die. So this beauty becomes part of us, it becomes part of who we are. And no matter what's actually happening happening around us, in good times or bad times, this beauty is with us. Therefore, I will trace the story of Endymion. Okay, in Greek mythology, Endymion was a really beautiful young man, and Selene, the goddess of the moon, fell in love with him. And they say that she asked Zeus, the king of the gods, live and stay young and beautiful forever. Anyway, Zeus thought that Endymion was having an affair with his wife Hera, said the wish and gave him eternal life and eternal beauty. But he put him to sleep for all eternity. So Endymion lives in the world of sleep. So he now says that he's going to tell us the story of, or tell us about Endymion. The very music of the name has gone into my being. So the story is so lovely that it's become part of me. And each pleasant scene is growing fresh before me as the green of our own valleys. Okay, so this story is all the story of Endymion is something that's always alive in me. And this is a metaphor for how beauty is a fantastic thing and becomes part of us. So I will begin now while I cannot hear the city's din. So I better tell you now because I'm in the middle of a beautiful, in the middle of beautiful countryside, and the hurly-burly and the problem of the city are not around me and oppressing me. Now, while the early budders are just new and run in mazes of the youngest hue about the forests. So early budders, this is talking about spring and plants flowering, or the new buds of spring coming out of a tree. And the buds, the trees run about in mazes of the youngest hue. Okay, hue is colour. So they've got this beautiful colour, a green colour of a new shoot. And there is this riot of different colours and different shoots. And this is beauty. While the willow trails, it's delicate amber, and the petals, sorry, and the dairy pails bring home increased milk. This is a bucolic view. Yeah, the willows, a tree that hangs down. And he's saying it looks beautiful. And the dairy pails, a pail is a bucket coming home from the dairy, are increasing because it's spring. And because of all this beauty, and this is part of the beauty itself. And as the year grows, sorry, as the year grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer my boat for many quite quiet hours, within streams that deepen freshly into bowers. Okay, so now he's talking about the progress of the year. And I think here now it's summer. So the year grows lush. It grows luxuriantly full of green and very strong stalks. The stalk is the base of the plant. So you have a bud and that grows into a stalk. And here he's saying this is something he thinks is beautiful. And then he's in summer, and he's in a little boat, and he's going along the streams. Yeah. And normally these streams, these little rivers, there are lots of tall trees growing either side. And sometimes you can find where they grow. So this bower, this beautiful place to sit. So he's in his boat, and he hopes to write many verses, many and many a verse, I hope to write before the daisies, vermail, rimmed and white, hide in the deep herbage. So he hopes to write lots of poetry before the end of summer, before the daisies, grass in the deep undergrowth. Yeah, because a daisy is quite a small plant, and it's vermail, purple. There's a purple rim, a purple edge, and white petals, and then yellow in the center. He doesn't mention the yellow rim and white. OK, so I love this because here he's talking about the summer, the summer, maybe August or something like that. And he says he hopes to write his poems before that happens. So, ah, sorry. And e'er yet the bees hum about globes of clover and sweet peas. OK, and before the bees are about close to clover flowers, a globe is something circular. And sweet pea flowers. Well, sweet peas are normally earlier in the season. I must be near the middle of my story. OK, see it half finished. He's saying that I don't want anything to destroy this beautiful scene, although he's coming towards autumn now. Hoary means covered in white. Frost is hoary, a hoar frost. So hoar is a colour. And this is alluding to the frosts of winter. So he's saying, I hope that my work, my poems, is not half finished before winter comes. And maybe he's alluding to winter. At the moment, he feels really creative and his muse is there. But let autumn bold with universal tinge of so all about me when I'm when I make an end. So he's describing autumn. Yeah. May I finish finish this poem before autumn comes. Yeah. So a power of creativity or the beauty of the year. This is a running metaphor through it. I hope I'm finished before autumn comes. And now at once adventuresome I send my herald through the wilderness. There let its trumpet blow and quickly dress my uncertain path with green that I may speed easily onward through flowers and weed. OK, so here he's talking about life being an adventure and he's hoping that the beauty will help him help him through life. And he's here. There's this metaphor of passing through life as a green and wonderful world. And yes, there are weeds and even stinging nettles, some less desirable plants or less desirable things in life. But look for the beauty. So enough. If you enjoyed the video, give it a rate.