This poem scares me a little, it is about a mans dillsuional and seemingly paranoid affection for Porphyria. She has told him that she loves him, and he wants to keep that moment sacred, so he strangles her with her own hair. This poem is written after the fact and is his recollection and reasoning behind it all. She says she loves him and he, "so, she came through wind and rain. Be sure I looked up at her eyes. Happy and proud; at last I knew. Porphyria worshipped me; surprise Made my heart swell and still it grew while I debated what to do." This quote describes his feeling when Porphyria describes and proclaimes her love for him, coming through the wind and rain.
So he decides to, " That moment she was mine, mine, fair, perfectly pure and good: I found a thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quiet sure she felt no pain." This is the part that disturbs me. He has found pure love, and it appears to be mutual, why else would he have such passion for her? She "felt no pain" is irrelevant, because we cannot ask her, but the psychology that he thinks she felt no pain is evident. He feels she is so in love with him that she is enjoying the pain and actually wanted it to happen. The last line of the poem is what concludes his mental instability, "And yet God has not said a word!" Here he describes his murder and then says she would be at peace and even a willing participant, whatever the case, God has accepted his deed and not done a thing about it. So to him, fate is sealed, he has done the right thing in this situation, to preserve the love they share, the only way was to kill her.
I have mixed feelings about this poem, at first reading I see a sick demented person who is too paranoid that his lover will leave him or fall out of love with him, and he wants to keep the love pure. But at a second glance I see how much he actually loved her, we do not know the circumstances of his poem, and most of Browning's characters are psychopaths, in interpretation, but this one seems to have a pure love with mixed morals. I do not see myself identifying with this fictional character, but I can see the psychology behind some murders of passion that have been committed in modern day, or back then. They have had a reason, however skewed, that made it okay and the right thing to do.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Lord Tennyson - The Lady of Shalott
This poem is based on Arthurian and Medieval writings, The Lady of Shalott is a tragic character tha has a curse brought upon her that she knows not where it came from. Instead she just weaves her basket and looks into her doomed mirror.
But who hat seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The lady of Shalott?
She sees all these people pass on the road to Camelot, and she may recongnize them and see their lives pass, but they have no idea who The lady of Shalott is!
She remains like this, passing the time weaving, until one day she sees Sir Lancelot, "From the bank and from the river he flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra, lirra," by the river, sang Sir Lancelot." She is smitten by him and, "She left the web she left the loom, she made three paces thro' the room, she saw the water-lily bloom, she saw the helmet and the plume, she look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide'; The mirro crack'd from side to side; "THe curse is come upon me," cried the Lady of Shalott" And as she cried this she realized that she will die or have a great hurt come upon her. This is the choice she made when she decided to gaze upon Sir Lancelot, instead of through the mirror, but in real life, with her own eyes. She races after Sir Lancelot, writing her name on the boat that she has ridden to go to Camelot, and dies before reaching what she so desires.
My own experiences are not this dramatic. But I do wonder, What-If? Like what-if I had gone to a different school, or what If I had talked to the pretty girl in 10th grade. Would I have a different life? Or would I be looking destroying my own mirror and ruining my life by changing my routine. I see a lot of Plato's The Cave, in this poem. The man looking onto the world of shadows is not satisified by his own life and wants more wants to see the real thing. But when he gets out, he is blinded by the light. What I am getting at, was she ready to leave the cursed mirror, maybe that was all that could contain her "sickness" or "curse", if she had not left the mirror, she would be alive. But if she stayed she would be in agony and misery forever.
- She knows not what the curse may be,
- And so she weaveth steadily,
- And little other care hath she,
- The Lady of Shalott.
But who hat seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The lady of Shalott?
She sees all these people pass on the road to Camelot, and she may recongnize them and see their lives pass, but they have no idea who The lady of Shalott is!
She remains like this, passing the time weaving, until one day she sees Sir Lancelot, "From the bank and from the river he flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra, lirra," by the river, sang Sir Lancelot." She is smitten by him and, "She left the web she left the loom, she made three paces thro' the room, she saw the water-lily bloom, she saw the helmet and the plume, she look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide'; The mirro crack'd from side to side; "THe curse is come upon me," cried the Lady of Shalott" And as she cried this she realized that she will die or have a great hurt come upon her. This is the choice she made when she decided to gaze upon Sir Lancelot, instead of through the mirror, but in real life, with her own eyes. She races after Sir Lancelot, writing her name on the boat that she has ridden to go to Camelot, and dies before reaching what she so desires.
- "Who is this? And what is here?"
- And in the lighted palace near
- Died the sound of royal cheer;
- And they crossed themselves for fear,
- All the Knights at Camelot;
- But Lancelot mused a little space
- He said, "She has a lovely face;
- God in his mercy lend her grace,
- The Lady of Shalott."
My own experiences are not this dramatic. But I do wonder, What-If? Like what-if I had gone to a different school, or what If I had talked to the pretty girl in 10th grade. Would I have a different life? Or would I be looking destroying my own mirror and ruining my life by changing my routine. I see a lot of Plato's The Cave, in this poem. The man looking onto the world of shadows is not satisified by his own life and wants more wants to see the real thing. But when he gets out, he is blinded by the light. What I am getting at, was she ready to leave the cursed mirror, maybe that was all that could contain her "sickness" or "curse", if she had not left the mirror, she would be alive. But if she stayed she would be in agony and misery forever.
Lord Tennyson - The Kraken
The Kraken immediately came to me when I past the page in the
book. I have heard of this creature and seen it in movies, most recently, the clash of the Titans, and seems to resemble the creature in 20,000 leagues under the sea. But I think that is what Tennyson was going for, a descriptive poem about an abstract creature that has been referenced before but never given much character uther than its tremendous size and mystery.
book. I have heard of this creature and seen it in movies, most recently, the clash of the Titans, and seems to resemble the creature in 20,000 leagues under the sea. But I think that is what Tennyson was going for, a descriptive poem about an abstract creature that has been referenced before but never given much character uther than its tremendous size and mystery.His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
The Kraken, here, is sleeping and being ominous, but it is always lurking with its "huge sponges of
millenial growth and height", making this a story of fairy tales and scaring little children at night.
"Then once by man and angles to be seen, In roaring he shall rise on the surface die". This is obviously
talking about an apocolypse, a christian one, where Angles and man will be on earth and he shall rise,
as if the end of the world wasn't bad enough, a Kraken, this huge ominous monster, will rise and wreck havock.
All the pictures I could find of these are of huge tentacled squid-like creatures. As seen to the left, the Kraken is
monstrous and would probably be a sight to see, if real.
In my personal experience, anytime a movie director/producer cannot think of a good monster name,
they use the KRAKEN. And there is a good reason behind it, it is the basis of most sea monsters
and is in many different cultures. The Kraken is always seen as being dormant and waiting, Hades in the
movie, The Clash of the Titans, yells "Release the Kraken" to symbolize the end of the world and
one of the most devastating things he could have done, he cannot control the Kraken, and he knows this, adding to the mythical lore, not even a God could control the Kraken, once released.
Charles Dickens - A visit to Newgate
Dickens visits a prison in this publication dated in 1836. His father had a stint in a prison for debt and this hits close to home for him. As he visits the prison he sees the downside of industrialism, the downside of technology. Dickens moves us through the prison, from the grounds where they have "limited" excersie, unless on death row, then they are confined to their quarters. Here he introduces us to one example, an old decrepid woman, who is seeminlgy going insane as it is read, "The old woman was talking in that low, stifled tone of voice which tells so forcibly of mental anguish; and every now and then burst into an irrepressible sharp, abrupt cry of grief, the most distressing sound that ears can hear." This gives the reader an image of a woman, much like your own mother or grandmother who has been confined so long in this dreary place that she has gone mentally insane, was she like this before she got here? or did it happen while confined?
A chilling imagery is seen in this quote and passage describing a girl whose mother had commited a crime and she was punished for being guilty by association , "The girl belonged to a class - unhappily but too extensive - the very existence of which, should make men's hearts bleed. Barely past her childhood, it required but a glance to discover that she was one of those children, born and bred in neglect and vice, who have never known what childhood is: who have never been taught to love and court a parent's smile, or to dread a parent's frown." She was born in the prison and maybe ended up there herself, but was given no chance for survival, as it is said in the quote, she had no childhood, not taught to "love and court a parents smile, or to dread a parent's frown." This is the lost generation of England, not given a chance to make it out of their stereotype.
A longer passage of a man on deathrow hearing his own prayer vigil,
"Immediately below the reading-desk, on the floor of the chapel, and forming the most conspicuous object in its little area, is THE CONDEMNED PEW; a huge black pen, in which the wretched people, who are singled out for death, are placed on the Sunday preceding their execution, in sight of all their fellow-prisoners, from many of whom they may have been separated but a week before, to hear prayers for their own souls, to join in the responses of their own burial service, and to listen to an address, warning their recent companions to take example by their fate, and urging themselves, while there is yet time - nearly four-and-twenty hours - to 'turn, and flee from the wrath to come!' Imagine what have been the feelings of the men whom that fearful pew has enclosed, and of whom, between the gallows and the knife, no mortal remnant may now remain! Think of the hopeless clinging to life to the last, and the wild despair, far exceeding in anguish the felon's death itself, by which they have heard the certainty of their speedy transmission to another world, with all their crimes upon their heads, rung into their ears by the officiating clergyman!"
This man has to hear his peers and clergy of the prison pray for his soul and he has no "mortal" life left, he will die in 24 hours and they are already acting as if he dead, that is probably where the term, dead man walking came from, he was still alive, but no hope for survival.
The end of the poem tells of a dream that a death row inmate has, where he has fled the prison and makes a new life for himself, but as he awakes, he realizes that that was only a dream and not real at all, he will still die in 2 hours.
This was a hard one to read. Much different than the romantic poems of the Romantics, where nature and imagery blended together so well. Nothing so real came from them, nothing so chilling and dark. But I can appreciate this type of writing so much more, it has meaning and not just an abstract meaning, but something that is going on in the real world, maybe even right now. A man's feelings of utter hopelessness.
A chilling imagery is seen in this quote and passage describing a girl whose mother had commited a crime and she was punished for being guilty by association , "The girl belonged to a class - unhappily but too extensive - the very existence of which, should make men's hearts bleed. Barely past her childhood, it required but a glance to discover that she was one of those children, born and bred in neglect and vice, who have never known what childhood is: who have never been taught to love and court a parent's smile, or to dread a parent's frown." She was born in the prison and maybe ended up there herself, but was given no chance for survival, as it is said in the quote, she had no childhood, not taught to "love and court a parents smile, or to dread a parent's frown." This is the lost generation of England, not given a chance to make it out of their stereotype.
A longer passage of a man on deathrow hearing his own prayer vigil,
"Immediately below the reading-desk, on the floor of the chapel, and forming the most conspicuous object in its little area, is THE CONDEMNED PEW; a huge black pen, in which the wretched people, who are singled out for death, are placed on the Sunday preceding their execution, in sight of all their fellow-prisoners, from many of whom they may have been separated but a week before, to hear prayers for their own souls, to join in the responses of their own burial service, and to listen to an address, warning their recent companions to take example by their fate, and urging themselves, while there is yet time - nearly four-and-twenty hours - to 'turn, and flee from the wrath to come!' Imagine what have been the feelings of the men whom that fearful pew has enclosed, and of whom, between the gallows and the knife, no mortal remnant may now remain! Think of the hopeless clinging to life to the last, and the wild despair, far exceeding in anguish the felon's death itself, by which they have heard the certainty of their speedy transmission to another world, with all their crimes upon their heads, rung into their ears by the officiating clergyman!"
This man has to hear his peers and clergy of the prison pray for his soul and he has no "mortal" life left, he will die in 24 hours and they are already acting as if he dead, that is probably where the term, dead man walking came from, he was still alive, but no hope for survival.
The end of the poem tells of a dream that a death row inmate has, where he has fled the prison and makes a new life for himself, but as he awakes, he realizes that that was only a dream and not real at all, he will still die in 2 hours.
This was a hard one to read. Much different than the romantic poems of the Romantics, where nature and imagery blended together so well. Nothing so real came from them, nothing so chilling and dark. But I can appreciate this type of writing so much more, it has meaning and not just an abstract meaning, but something that is going on in the real world, maybe even right now. A man's feelings of utter hopelessness.
Thomas Carlyle - Past and Present
Written around a time where famine and poverty were prevalent in England, Carlyle wrote to the working class, like an English Socialist-lite he wrote about how the aristocracy was using the best and brightest of England, the working-man, to make money and keep them away from the fruits of labor. In his quote about what the upper-class was saying to the working man, "Touch it not, ye workers, ye master-workers, ye master-idlers; none of you can touch it, no man of you shall be the better for it; this is enchanted fruit!" Here the working man, who works hard and long to make a better life for himself, in actuality has no inspiration or motivational drive, if the aristocracy takes from him all that he has worked for.
He compares the life of the aristocrat as,
"many men eat finer cookery, drink dearer liquors, - with what advantage they can report, and their doctors can: but in the heart of them, if we go out of the dyspecptic stomach, what increase of blessedness is there? Are they better, beautifuler, stronger, braver? Are they even what they call "happier"? Do they look with satisfaction on more things and human faces in this God's-Earth; do more things and human faces look with satisfaction on them? Not so."
This long quote is very realistic to the times, the aristocrat and nobles are said to have noble or holy blood, that is descended from their father's fathers. Carlyle is saying the working class deserve just as much if not more good treatment as this, and he calls upon God's blessing to say so. He sees equality in men, no matter their birth right. He calls upon the rich working man, who can actually do something about these immanent changes.
He uses the fable of Midas, whose touch turned anything into Gold. He compares this to England saying even though we have all these riches, what good are they if everyone who works for them is not the happier? "What a trush in these old fables!" he says our "successful industry is a non-success! what a strange success!" meaning that the industry of England is one of the most powerful in the world, and yet the vast majority of England sees none of this.
I can relate to this reading by the fact that I am a social Liberal. I will not divulge on my economic politics as they do not pertain to this post. But the social aspect of the USA is of major concern to me. Why can Homosexuals not get married? Do they not pay taxes as everyone else does? What right do we have to tell a woman she cannot make major decisions in her life? Why is it fair that the rich in the US can hire rich tax firms to skimp out on what they owe to their country? I ask these questions with one thing in mind, the benefit of the everyday people of the United States. I am not saying one political party is better and going to help us overcome these social inequalities. But something has to change to make the lives of our countrymen equal. I am not a Marxist, as I believe Carlyle is not either. He believes in "heroes" that have power and can make a difference, to rise up from the paradox of a rich class and a poor class being separated by authority and near-slavery. Today we have a huge middle class that seems to run the government and make all the decisions, but they need to look out for their less-than equal peers, and make them equal!
He compares the life of the aristocrat as,
"many men eat finer cookery, drink dearer liquors, - with what advantage they can report, and their doctors can: but in the heart of them, if we go out of the dyspecptic stomach, what increase of blessedness is there? Are they better, beautifuler, stronger, braver? Are they even what they call "happier"? Do they look with satisfaction on more things and human faces in this God's-Earth; do more things and human faces look with satisfaction on them? Not so."
This long quote is very realistic to the times, the aristocrat and nobles are said to have noble or holy blood, that is descended from their father's fathers. Carlyle is saying the working class deserve just as much if not more good treatment as this, and he calls upon God's blessing to say so. He sees equality in men, no matter their birth right. He calls upon the rich working man, who can actually do something about these immanent changes.
He uses the fable of Midas, whose touch turned anything into Gold. He compares this to England saying even though we have all these riches, what good are they if everyone who works for them is not the happier? "What a trush in these old fables!" he says our "successful industry is a non-success! what a strange success!" meaning that the industry of England is one of the most powerful in the world, and yet the vast majority of England sees none of this.
I can relate to this reading by the fact that I am a social Liberal. I will not divulge on my economic politics as they do not pertain to this post. But the social aspect of the USA is of major concern to me. Why can Homosexuals not get married? Do they not pay taxes as everyone else does? What right do we have to tell a woman she cannot make major decisions in her life? Why is it fair that the rich in the US can hire rich tax firms to skimp out on what they owe to their country? I ask these questions with one thing in mind, the benefit of the everyday people of the United States. I am not saying one political party is better and going to help us overcome these social inequalities. But something has to change to make the lives of our countrymen equal. I am not a Marxist, as I believe Carlyle is not either. He believes in "heroes" that have power and can make a difference, to rise up from the paradox of a rich class and a poor class being separated by authority and near-slavery. Today we have a huge middle class that seems to run the government and make all the decisions, but they need to look out for their less-than equal peers, and make them equal!
Felecia Hemans - Woman and Fame
Hemans was a gifted writer and was first published at 14, so no doubt one of her later poems would be about woman and fame, being as though she had been a famous poet for more than 20 years when this poem was published (1836).
Happy - happier far than thou,
With the laurel on thy brow;
She that makes the humblest hearth,
Lovely but to one on earth.
This is the epigraph of the poem and is actually a self quotation from another poem, maybe to help readers recognize who she is or see another one of her poems, like advertising in the 1800s. But I think really, she liked this line and it inspired her following poem.
Thou has a charmed cup, O Fame!
A draught that mantles high,
and seems to life this earthly frame
above mortality,
Away! to me - a woman- bring
sweet waters from affection's spring.
This second stanza of the poem describes how Hemans feels about fame, it is a "charmed cup" that drinks from a high mantle. I think she means, in common day language, that everyone puts fame on a pedistal and she, having had fame for 20 years, sees it as all smoke and mirrors, the fame she has, especially as a woman brings a lot of affection and adoration, but it has its own downfalls, no matter how charmed a life.
speaking of her fame, in line 19-23
A hollow sound is in thy song,
A mockery in thine eye,
To the sick heart that doth but long
For aid, for sympathy;
for kindly looks to cheer it on,
for tender accents that are gone
Fame has a "hollow sound" in its song, and seems to mock her even though she thinks that she has treated it well. Maybe the fame was blissful at first, but as she matured the "tender accents that are gone"; all the sparkle of fame has diminished. And on her last stanza, "Where must the lone one turn or flee? - not unto thee, oh! not to thee!", here she is saying that all she wants is some privacy, or maybe she likes the fame, but to anyone that would like privacy and a lonely hermits life, would not like fame in theirs.
I do not have any experience with a famed life or recognition, I was in the Macon Telegraph for winning a city tournament for wrestling, and even then I was bashful when people would bring me clippings from the paper. But I do watch a lot of E! news channel and see the famous people as they hide their faces from the demanding paparazzi. Some famous people, like Paris Hilton or Megan Fox, seem to like the fame and addoration, but they are young and will, as time goes on, see the fame is just another life that has its ups and downs. Others, like the late Kirk Cobain and Johnny Depp did not/do not like the fame. Kirk was a troubled artist with a lot of talent but saw his record label and peers try and turn him into something he was not, and that "charmed cup" was just that, a charm, not real, but an illusion. Johnny Depp dealt with the fame a little more securely, he went off to France where he would not be recognized or at the very least bothered as much, a lone person would not like fame at all.
Happy - happier far than thou,
With the laurel on thy brow;
She that makes the humblest hearth,
Lovely but to one on earth.
This is the epigraph of the poem and is actually a self quotation from another poem, maybe to help readers recognize who she is or see another one of her poems, like advertising in the 1800s. But I think really, she liked this line and it inspired her following poem.
Thou has a charmed cup, O Fame!
A draught that mantles high,
and seems to life this earthly frame
above mortality,
Away! to me - a woman- bring
sweet waters from affection's spring.
This second stanza of the poem describes how Hemans feels about fame, it is a "charmed cup" that drinks from a high mantle. I think she means, in common day language, that everyone puts fame on a pedistal and she, having had fame for 20 years, sees it as all smoke and mirrors, the fame she has, especially as a woman brings a lot of affection and adoration, but it has its own downfalls, no matter how charmed a life.
speaking of her fame, in line 19-23
A hollow sound is in thy song,
A mockery in thine eye,
To the sick heart that doth but long
For aid, for sympathy;
for kindly looks to cheer it on,
for tender accents that are gone
Fame has a "hollow sound" in its song, and seems to mock her even though she thinks that she has treated it well. Maybe the fame was blissful at first, but as she matured the "tender accents that are gone"; all the sparkle of fame has diminished. And on her last stanza, "Where must the lone one turn or flee? - not unto thee, oh! not to thee!", here she is saying that all she wants is some privacy, or maybe she likes the fame, but to anyone that would like privacy and a lonely hermits life, would not like fame in theirs.
I do not have any experience with a famed life or recognition, I was in the Macon Telegraph for winning a city tournament for wrestling, and even then I was bashful when people would bring me clippings from the paper. But I do watch a lot of E! news channel and see the famous people as they hide their faces from the demanding paparazzi. Some famous people, like Paris Hilton or Megan Fox, seem to like the fame and addoration, but they are young and will, as time goes on, see the fame is just another life that has its ups and downs. Others, like the late Kirk Cobain and Johnny Depp did not/do not like the fame. Kirk was a troubled artist with a lot of talent but saw his record label and peers try and turn him into something he was not, and that "charmed cup" was just that, a charm, not real, but an illusion. Johnny Depp dealt with the fame a little more securely, he went off to France where he would not be recognized or at the very least bothered as much, a lone person would not like fame at all.
John Keats - Ode to a Nightingale
Keats writes ode to a nightingale in 1819 with some other Ode's poems. I liked this one the best because it has a lot of symbolism and seems to be an inspiration from other poems and stories, but also he draws from within is own experiences at his own house!
In Nightingale, Keats draws upon the birds that have sung to anyone and everyone that have heard him. In stanza 7 it reads:
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown.
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.
I like the idea here that even though the same bird did not sing to clowns, Kings, Keats, or the biblical Ruth; but the same song they sing has been around that long. This is not possible for a human, since we are in touch with our own indivuality and thus our own eventual demise. Nightingales are the opposite to us in this respect, no matter what age, they sing to and inspire us no matter what bird is singing. As we have traced time and memory back to Ruth, biblically, and Kings and up to Keats, we have a change in culture and religion and ways of thought. But the nightingale has kept its same song all this time.
In stanza 8:
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
The bird has flown away, and Keats is upset, to say the least. The imagery of the bird flying away, deceiving a mythical creature, the elf, and going to the next person to inspire, yet not knowing he is going to be doing that or that he has just come from a place that will make his song immortal in poem. Keats asks himself if he is awake or asleep, dreaming about a message or vision, or if this is all real. the experience was very surreal for him and he has a hard time believing it was a coincidence.
I, myself, believe in divine intervention and that there is a master plan for all of us. But the nightingale in this poem, and in general, do not think of such things, they have a natural habit and kind of do the same thing over and over, unlike us, humans, that seem to want to be different, but yet have the same fate as the nightingale, death.
In Nightingale, Keats draws upon the birds that have sung to anyone and everyone that have heard him. In stanza 7 it reads:
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown.
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.
I like the idea here that even though the same bird did not sing to clowns, Kings, Keats, or the biblical Ruth; but the same song they sing has been around that long. This is not possible for a human, since we are in touch with our own indivuality and thus our own eventual demise. Nightingales are the opposite to us in this respect, no matter what age, they sing to and inspire us no matter what bird is singing. As we have traced time and memory back to Ruth, biblically, and Kings and up to Keats, we have a change in culture and religion and ways of thought. But the nightingale has kept its same song all this time.
In stanza 8:
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?
The bird has flown away, and Keats is upset, to say the least. The imagery of the bird flying away, deceiving a mythical creature, the elf, and going to the next person to inspire, yet not knowing he is going to be doing that or that he has just come from a place that will make his song immortal in poem. Keats asks himself if he is awake or asleep, dreaming about a message or vision, or if this is all real. the experience was very surreal for him and he has a hard time believing it was a coincidence.
I, myself, believe in divine intervention and that there is a master plan for all of us. But the nightingale in this poem, and in general, do not think of such things, they have a natural habit and kind of do the same thing over and over, unlike us, humans, that seem to want to be different, but yet have the same fate as the nightingale, death.
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