Skip to main content

Ode to psyche



Ode to psyche is a poem by John Keats. In it he addresses psyche (Female goddess and wife of cupid) like he is talking with her face to face.

In first stanza Keats describes his vision or dream in which he finds psyche and her lover Eros (another name of cupid) laying in grass beneath whispering leaves. He says that psyche is soul and Eros is body and they together are laying in the heart of nature. Poet tells that he knew the winged boy but asks who the girl is? And he answers himself that she was psyche.

In second and third stanza Keats describes psyche as the youngest and most beautiful of all the Olympian gods and goddesses. He says psyche has no worshippers, no temples, no altars, no choir to sing for her, because she arrived very late. But poet says that he will become her summer, music and oracle. He will build temple on a place where no one has been ever come and he will become priest of that temple. The place surrounded by thought that resemble the beauty of nature and imagination.

At last poet promises psyche that he will keep windows open at night that her winged boy can come to meet her.

So, in this poem we can see myth, world of imagination and glorification of love.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Old Woman - Joseph Campbell

'The Old Woman' is simple and short poem by Joseph Campbell where he compares old woman with different things and describes her. The poem has three stanzas. .In  the first stanza , the poet compares the old lady with the white candle. White colour is symbol of peace and candle is symbol of light. The old woman is like white candle. She is in peace and she gives other people light by his experiences. She is able to show right path who need that. In the second  stanza, the poet compares the old lady with the spent radiance of the winter's sun. It refers old woman's long life. But now she is old like winter's sun, but she has gathered a wide experience of life. Poet writes, "A woman with her travail done" In last stanza, the poet compares the old woman with the water under the ruined mill. The water is still under the ruined mill and by comparing this poet writes about the old lady that her all sons has gone, they do not live with her. But she has all the

To the Indians who died in South Africa - T.S. Eliot

A man's destination is his own village,  His own fire, and his wife's cooking;  To sit in front of his own door at sunset  And see his grandson, and his neighbour's grandson  Playing in the dust together.  Scarred but secure, he has many memories  Which return at the hour of conversation,  (The warm or the cool hour, according to the climate)  Of foreign men, who fought in foreign places,  Foreign to each other.  A man's destination is not his destiny,  Every country is home to one man  And exile to another. Where a man dies bravely  At one with his destiny, that soil is his.  Let his village remember.  This was not your land, or ours: but a village in the Midlands,  And one in the Five Rivers, may have the same graveyard.  Let those who go home tell the same story of you:  Of action with a common purpose, action  None the less fruitful if neither you nor we  Know, until the judgement after death,  What is the fruit of action.  This poem is by T.S

Joy and woe woven are fine - William Blake

In this short poem William Blake wants to give message that joy and grief, both are part of life and both are good. He says joy and woe are woven fine. Woven means things which are attached to each other. Both happiness and grief are fine. They are cloths of our soul. In every grief, there are also joy we need to find it. We are not here for only happiness or for only pain. But we are made for both. And when we know that joy and woe both are part of our life, we can live happily in grief also. So, in this poem poet wants to tell that accept both joy and pain. Do not become unhappy when sad moments come, there are always happy moments also. Know that both are part of everyone's life and live happily. That is all poet wants to say in the poem.