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In Ode to Autumn Keats appears before us more as an artist than as a worshipper of nature. A lover of sensuous beauty, Keats has painted the season of Autumn in minute details which are not only faithful but also charming. All significant sights and sounds of Autumn are brought alive to us in a memorable manner with lovely imagery.
The external aspect of the things described is vividly realistic, but what lends an additional charm to the photographic vividness is the inner vision of the poet. The fruit of autumn like apples and hazels are ripe to the very core of them, and the secret is the sweet conspiracy between Autumn and the friendly Sun. Autumn produces many 'later flowers' after the summer's abundant contribution in this sphere. But Keats, not content to talk about the colour and fragrance of flowers, focuses on their relation with the bees. Exploring the psychology of the tired bees, who wonder why summer is continuing, he creates a fine fusion between the human and the natural worlds. The picture is not yet complete. The cells of the bee-hives have already become clammy, overflowing with honey gathered during summer. It is a literally sweet problem for the bees.
The whole picture of Autumn in the English rural setting is both realistic and beautified with mythical imagination. The harvester is presented as sitting on the granary floor, having no anxiety in his mind for his grains, and a lock of hair dangling on his forehead is being moved gently by the 'winnowing wind'. The pictures of the reaper in the half-reaped furrow', drowsed with the sweet smell of poppy flowers; of the gleaner balancing his corn-loaded form while crossing a brook; and of the patient cider-presser watching the 'last oozings hours by hours'all are vivid and life-like, and have a unique emotional and artistic appeal.
The way in which Keats describes the sky and the landscape at the time of autumnal sun-set is truly poetic. Amidst the 'barred clouds' the red sun looks like a blooming flower, and the roots of the corn after harvest gives the 'stubble plains a masculine look. It also creates a suitable background for the music of gnats which, otherwise, would not appeal to the listeners. Thus Ode to Autumn is a rare specimen of picture-painting in English poetry.
Critics generally agree that 'Ode to Autumn' is the most satisfying and mature of Keatsean odes. It is also the most artistically 'impersonal' of them, and certainly felicitous in diction and musical cadence. From its opening phrases to the closing ones, matter and manner have not only been superbly blended, but every line bears the authentic stamp of Keatsean poetry at its best.
The first stanza is the symphony of colour, the second, the symphony of movement; and the third, the symphony of sound. It is, altogether, as rich in details, as in pattern. C. H. Herford truly says, "The season of mellow fruitfulness wakens no romantic vision, no romantic longing like the nightingale's song. It satisfies all the senses, but enthrals and intoxicates none. Everything breathes contented fulfilment without satiety, and beauty too is fulfilled and complete."
Keats focuses on the richness, plenitude, and peaceful joy of Autumn. Phrases like 'mellow fruitfulness', 'load and bless with fruits', 'ripeness to the core', have an enormous sensuous impact. The climax in this respect is reached with the "O'er brimmed clammy cells" of the bee-hives. But there is something more than naive celebration of plenitude: the very first line refers to 'mists', and soon the bees fondly think 'warm days will never cease'. These are hints of awareness of the coming winter.
The mythical presentation of Autumn through human figures of the farmer, the reaper, the gleaner, and the cider-presser, betrays romantic imagination of the highest order. The imagery is sensuously rich, and emotionally satisfying. The subtle combination of visual beauty and the feeling of compassion fused with a plea for indolence, is remarkable in the lines on the reaper:
'Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.'
The final stanza begins with the crucial question, "Where are the songs of spring? Aye, where are they?" This nice dramatic interpolation adds a note of variety to the lyric; and immediately answering to his own question the poet rolls out the special music-sheet of Autumn. The musical mood is facilitated by the appropriate setting and moment. The 'wailful choir' of gnats becomes interesting being 'borne aloft or sinking as the light wind lives or dies'. The bleating of the lamb becomes richer in effect being echoed by surrounding hills. Moreover, the effect is compactly tactile-visual, as in the lines-
'While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue.'
The ethereal and the earthly, the delicate and the stubborn, the moist and the warm, the blooming and the dying, are imaginatively fused together in such imagery. While it is a superb evidence of Keats's romantic appreciation of nature, it also exemplifies his power to correlate nature and humanity. Truly, 'Ode to Autumn' is a masterpiece of Romantic poetry.
After glorifying Autumn's gifts and celebrating her plenitude in the first two stanzas of Ode to Autunn, Keats himself raises the question at the beginning of the final stanza. He seems to anticipate such a critical query because compared to spring and summer, Autumn is bound to be criticized as unmusical. It is true that great singing birds like the cuckoo and the nightingale are not heard in Autumn. But Keats is not ready to admit that Autumn has no music. In fact, Keats declared so beautifully in the sonnet 'On the Grasshopper and the Cricket', that "The poetry of earth is never dead'. So, in answer to the taunting question 'Aye, where are they?' he cites a brilliant list of autumnal music, discovered and aptly presented by himself. But he is realistic enough to admit the absence of vernal music: "Think not of them."
Like a researcher he establishes, what nobody knew before, that the monotonous droning of gnats can be musical, presented in the setting of the sunset, among the riverside willows, and, being made alternately high and low in volume 'as the light wind lives or dies'. Keats proves himself as an expert in acoustics as he finds the lamb's bleating all the more fascinating for being echoed on the hills surrounding the valley. The robin red-breast is a homely singer throughout the year, but the poet boldly claims that in Autumn its whistle becomes 'treble soft'. And he rounds off the list of Autumn's songs with the twittering swallows as they fly in the sky.
Such a pleading for Autumn betrays Keats's immense love for the season, whom he does not want to be defeated on any score.
The external aspect of the things described is vividly realistic, but what lends an additional charm to the photographic vividness is the inner vision of the poet. The fruit of autumn like apples and hazels are ripe to the very core of them, and the secret is the sweet conspiracy between Autumn and the friendly Sun. Autumn produces many 'later flowers' after the summer's abundant contribution in this sphere. But Keats, not content to talk about the colour and fragrance of flowers, focuses on their relation with the bees. Exploring the psychology of the tired bees, who wonder why summer is continuing, he creates a fine fusion between the human and the natural worlds. The picture is not yet complete. The cells of the bee-hives have already become clammy, overflowing with honey gathered during summer. It is a literally sweet problem for the bees.
The whole picture of Autumn in the English rural setting is both realistic and beautified with mythical imagination. The harvester is presented as sitting on the granary floor, having no anxiety in his mind for his grains, and a lock of hair dangling on his forehead is being moved gently by the 'winnowing wind'. The pictures of the reaper in the half-reaped furrow', drowsed with the sweet smell of poppy flowers; of the gleaner balancing his corn-loaded form while crossing a brook; and of the patient cider-presser watching the 'last oozings hours by hours'all are vivid and life-like, and have a unique emotional and artistic appeal.
The way in which Keats describes the sky and the landscape at the time of autumnal sun-set is truly poetic. Amidst the 'barred clouds' the red sun looks like a blooming flower, and the roots of the corn after harvest gives the 'stubble plains a masculine look. It also creates a suitable background for the music of gnats which, otherwise, would not appeal to the listeners. Thus Ode to Autumn is a rare specimen of picture-painting in English poetry.
Critics generally agree that 'Ode to Autumn' is the most satisfying and mature of Keatsean odes. It is also the most artistically 'impersonal' of them, and certainly felicitous in diction and musical cadence. From its opening phrases to the closing ones, matter and manner have not only been superbly blended, but every line bears the authentic stamp of Keatsean poetry at its best.
The first stanza is the symphony of colour, the second, the symphony of movement; and the third, the symphony of sound. It is, altogether, as rich in details, as in pattern. C. H. Herford truly says, "The season of mellow fruitfulness wakens no romantic vision, no romantic longing like the nightingale's song. It satisfies all the senses, but enthrals and intoxicates none. Everything breathes contented fulfilment without satiety, and beauty too is fulfilled and complete."
Keats focuses on the richness, plenitude, and peaceful joy of Autumn. Phrases like 'mellow fruitfulness', 'load and bless with fruits', 'ripeness to the core', have an enormous sensuous impact. The climax in this respect is reached with the "O'er brimmed clammy cells" of the bee-hives. But there is something more than naive celebration of plenitude: the very first line refers to 'mists', and soon the bees fondly think 'warm days will never cease'. These are hints of awareness of the coming winter.
The mythical presentation of Autumn through human figures of the farmer, the reaper, the gleaner, and the cider-presser, betrays romantic imagination of the highest order. The imagery is sensuously rich, and emotionally satisfying. The subtle combination of visual beauty and the feeling of compassion fused with a plea for indolence, is remarkable in the lines on the reaper:
'Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers.'
The final stanza begins with the crucial question, "Where are the songs of spring? Aye, where are they?" This nice dramatic interpolation adds a note of variety to the lyric; and immediately answering to his own question the poet rolls out the special music-sheet of Autumn. The musical mood is facilitated by the appropriate setting and moment. The 'wailful choir' of gnats becomes interesting being 'borne aloft or sinking as the light wind lives or dies'. The bleating of the lamb becomes richer in effect being echoed by surrounding hills. Moreover, the effect is compactly tactile-visual, as in the lines-
'While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue.'
The ethereal and the earthly, the delicate and the stubborn, the moist and the warm, the blooming and the dying, are imaginatively fused together in such imagery. While it is a superb evidence of Keats's romantic appreciation of nature, it also exemplifies his power to correlate nature and humanity. Truly, 'Ode to Autumn' is a masterpiece of Romantic poetry.
After glorifying Autumn's gifts and celebrating her plenitude in the first two stanzas of Ode to Autunn, Keats himself raises the question at the beginning of the final stanza. He seems to anticipate such a critical query because compared to spring and summer, Autumn is bound to be criticized as unmusical. It is true that great singing birds like the cuckoo and the nightingale are not heard in Autumn. But Keats is not ready to admit that Autumn has no music. In fact, Keats declared so beautifully in the sonnet 'On the Grasshopper and the Cricket', that "The poetry of earth is never dead'. So, in answer to the taunting question 'Aye, where are they?' he cites a brilliant list of autumnal music, discovered and aptly presented by himself. But he is realistic enough to admit the absence of vernal music: "Think not of them."
Like a researcher he establishes, what nobody knew before, that the monotonous droning of gnats can be musical, presented in the setting of the sunset, among the riverside willows, and, being made alternately high and low in volume 'as the light wind lives or dies'. Keats proves himself as an expert in acoustics as he finds the lamb's bleating all the more fascinating for being echoed on the hills surrounding the valley. The robin red-breast is a homely singer throughout the year, but the poet boldly claims that in Autumn its whistle becomes 'treble soft'. And he rounds off the list of Autumn's songs with the twittering swallows as they fly in the sky.
Such a pleading for Autumn betrays Keats's immense love for the season, whom he does not want to be defeated on any score.