Beauty is Truth (Ode on a Grecian Urn)

Posted on by cejalaval

http://Beauty is Truth (Ode on a Grecian Urn)

It’s kind of funny, kind of sad, but the thing I struggle with most in blogging is coming up with a title for the pix.  There are times I really understand why some bloggers just choose to call all their pix “Look XYZ”; personally, I don’t want to take that much of a short cut, but wow, there are times my mind just goes on and on in a stutter, and others — like this one — where it gets stuck on something that may not even make sense but I’m just helpless to move on without losing a great deal of time.  And with more minor surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, that is just something I can’t afford to do.  So I apologize if this one is a bit of a stretch… I mean, there’s not an urn in sight, but I feel that it’s just out of range, and the sense of a Greek goddess just remains strong with me (I thought about punning something about Green Goddess Dressing, but even I couldn’t go there lol).  So we’ll just stay with Keats; a bit heavy perhaps for a Monday morning, but that is where I’ve been stuck, so that is where I will stay.  Happy shopping!

  • Gown:  FlowerDreams – Tanya Gown in Cats Eye.   More sophisticated glamour from what I consider to be one of the best gown designers on the grid! To me, this gown evokes a Grecian goddess, with the one shoulder artfully pleated on the diagonal across the chest in a lighter tone, then draping off in the back to the ground with a simply gorgeous blend of additional tones.  There’s also an optional extra floaty train, if desired (not used in this shot). Elegance, sophistication, simplicity… to me it adds up to classic beauty.  Available in 13 colors or as a fatpack.  Sized for Legacy, Slink HG/P, Belleza F/I & Maitreya, Tanya is  EXCLUSIVELY at the January Swank Event, Jan 7th – 31st.  Demo available.
  • Head:  LeLUTKA – Nova Head (EvoX)
  • Body:  LEGACY – Mesh Body Special Edition, Feminine
  • Skin:  Amara Beauty – Lorena
  • Freckles/Moles:  DS’ELLES – Charm Moles
  • Hair:  Analog Dog – Evolve
  • Eyes:  ARTE – Green Eyes
  • Makeup:  Cazimi – Dusk EvoX Lipstick
  • Jewelry:  Moondance Boutique – Reign Crown Jewels Bracelet & Earrings; Chop Zuey – Bel Aire Gold Women’s Wedding Band
  • Nails:  Stunner Originals – Bento Nails Mesh Ballerina Long
  • Pose:  STUN Poses – Bianca
  • Location:  Poison Rouge

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.”