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Submitted by
Ayesha Arif
Sana Ishaq
By
John Keats
Thou still unravished bride of quietness;
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian , who can’t thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme;
What least fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals , or of both ,
In temple or the dales of Arcady ?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loath ?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape ?
What pipes and timberals ?
What wild ecstasy?
Ode on a grecian urn
Ode on a grecian urn

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Ode on a grecian urn

  • 3. Thou still unravished bride of quietness; Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian , who can’t thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme; What least fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals , or of both , In temple or the dales of Arcady ? What men or gods are these? What maidens loath ? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape ? What pipes and timberals ? What wild ecstasy?