John Keats: 'Ode on a Grecian Urn', read by Matthew Coulton
Пікірлер: 48
@Yo-ot1rn6 ай бұрын
Pov: You're the Urn.
@nazmulhasan-ul9xe11 күн бұрын
One of my favorite English poems of John Keats. Recitation of this person is so great.
@mdarifulislam35557 ай бұрын
Please make more more videos like this, you are an excellent reciter. 👏💝
@lulah34634 жыл бұрын
This voice and intonation would make a great audiobook.
@assumptioncares54213 жыл бұрын
Agreed!
@avs4365 Жыл бұрын
To be read by someone who still has the voice of youth in it's tone is a reminder of the young age at which this masterful poet passed. Sincere thanks for posting this joy.
@Urdupoetry4653 жыл бұрын
I love your reciting style.When i listen you reciting i feel the poet voice the the depth of my heart.Thank you very much Sir
@jdozier3459 Жыл бұрын
A superb reading of the great poem by one of the world's greatest poets, John Keats. I loved the works of this great poet when I was a young man...and I still love his poems today,...after many, many decades have passed. Thank you.
@gryphonkingbros8473 жыл бұрын
The devotion to representation with the unbroken eye contact and the traditional-looking outfit is super respectable. I've never seen someone go so far out to read poetry; very unique!
@HerAeolianHarp3 жыл бұрын
Delighted to find your channel, and thank you for honoring Keats.
@abinashdas19711 ай бұрын
Ode on a Grecian Urn BY JOHN KEATS 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."
@lemvilasangtam2373 Жыл бұрын
Wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow so elegant
@ginasimonanicola93372 жыл бұрын
Unique recitation! Perfect! Talented artist!
@peterphillips20692 жыл бұрын
Thank you!
@AH-hd4uo3 жыл бұрын
total pleasure listening to you. intoxicating
@Whatever_Happy_People Жыл бұрын
Your memory is amazing. Love your enthusiasm. Peace thankyou
@FIstof7LEGENDАй бұрын
He could very well be staring at the text
@megheducators29834 жыл бұрын
Really appreciatable work
@larasayed013 жыл бұрын
Outstanding! Keep it up!
@shanawazshushan17883 жыл бұрын
Subscribed 😀 Oww The voice of melody 😊
@qasimkhanktk5424 Жыл бұрын
Outstanding.
@robertmajors6910 Жыл бұрын
Cool! Loved it
@Hridoy_Beyond3 жыл бұрын
Great work, please continue!
@keatsfoundation80493 жыл бұрын
Thank you so much!
@cristinabizzarri7061 Жыл бұрын
Bravo bravo bravo 🌸🌺♥️⚘️👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
@cedellis_73794 жыл бұрын
very useful!!
@agnivabanerjee39832 жыл бұрын
Ode on a Grecian Urn Launch Audio in a New Window BY JOHN KEATS 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."
@cesare450342 жыл бұрын
Bellissima l'ode e l'interpretazione👏👏👏
@peterphillips20692 жыл бұрын
Mille grazie!
@Lessontobe Жыл бұрын
Very nice!
@mininovaband3 жыл бұрын
Nice.
@janetbrodesser2369 ай бұрын
I wonder what accent Keats had and in what accent he thought. Is it true he had a high voice? Beautiful reading of one if the most beautiful of poems.
@peterphillips20699 ай бұрын
His critics accused him of being a 'Cockney rhymester' -- but I don't think they ever heard him speak. His friend the painter Benjamin Robert Haydon reported that a group of friends played a "concert" in which they imitated different instruments: "Keats was the bassoon, Bewick the flageolet, & I was the organ & so on. We went on imitating the sounds of these instruments till we were ready to burst with laughing"/ As the bassoon is a bass instrument, I imagine he had a deep voice.
@zainabizzy6b4905 ай бұрын
Are you pretty much related to John Keats ? I don't mean to be mean but just curious that you look and sound like John Keats as if he would, thinking you are John Keats himself. Maybe I am not right I think, because John Keats in the image looks a bit different...
@zainabizzy6b4905 ай бұрын
I really don't mean to be mean Sir....but pretty much curious....on the other hand your recitation is very good 😊👍 keep it up..😅
@lijisenglishguru19152 жыл бұрын
👍🏻👍🏻
@hemaperumal9437 Жыл бұрын
Songs I want
@mortemoccasus2412 Жыл бұрын
Bro looks like Hugh Dancy
@nateshmo31369 ай бұрын
LIT1 W
@gennaroascione25343 жыл бұрын
2:54
@dangoss71802 жыл бұрын
Is it the greatest poem ever? No. The greatest poem is that which we never hear, one read by the poet who is seen on pottery, but can never be heard. Whose lips will never utter words we can hear. And who tells us the secrets of beauty and of truth.
@ash-ct5fr7 ай бұрын
hear me out
@joecarr22242 жыл бұрын
Very well recited, yet the affected left arm supporting the head of the languorous presenter is a gross distraction!