All Entire

Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) · 1909

iambic tetrameter · ABAB · 24 lines · from The Flowers of Evil

The Demon, in my lofty vault,This morning came to visit me,And striving me to find at fault,He said, "Fain would I know of thee;

"Among the many beauteous things,--All which her subtle grace proclaim--Among the dark and rosy things,Which go to make her charming frame,

"Which is the sweetest unto thee"?My soul! to Him thou didst retort--"Since all with her is destiny,Of preference there can be nought.

When all transports me with delight,If aught deludes I can not know,She either lulls one like the Night,Or dazzles like the Morning-glow.

That harmony is too divine,Which governs all her body fair,For powerless mortals to defineIn notes the many concords there.

O mystic metamorphosisOf all my senses blent in one!Her voice a beauteous perfume is,Her breath makes music, chaste and wan.

Words in this poem

fain v. t.
To be glad ; to wish or desire.
beauteous a.
Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
didst
, the 2d pers. sing. imp. of Do.
aught n.
Property; possession. [AS. , fr. agan to own, p. p. ahte.]
blent p. p.
Blinded. Also (Chaucer), 3d sing. pres. Blindeth.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

All Entire is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Flowers of Evil, Project Gutenberg ebook #36098; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Charles Baudelaire, All Entire, in The Flowers of Evil (1909), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #36098, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/baudelaire-flowers-of-evil/all-entire.html, id L25414.

Form and metre

All Entire is 24 lines in 6 stanzas of 4 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, complete in 4 of its 6 stanzas. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).

See other poems in iambic tetrameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

  1. 1 ABAB vaultA · meB · faultA · theeB
  2. 2 ABAB thingsA · proclaimB · thingsA · frameB
  3. 4 ABAB delightA · knowB · nightA · glowB
  4. 5 ABAB divineA · fairB · defineA · thereB
Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.

LineSyl.Stress
The Demon, in my lofty vault,8·/˘··/˘·
This morning came to visit me,8·/˘··/˘·
And striving me to find at fault,8·/˘·····
He said, "Fain would I know of thee;8········
"Among the many beauteous things,8···//˘˘·
--All which her subtle grace proclaim--8···/˘·˘/
Among the dark and rosy things,8·····/˘·
Which go to make her charming frame,8·····/˘·
"Which is the sweetest unto thee"?8···/˘···
My soul! to Him thou didst retort--8······/·
"Since all with her is destiny,8·····/˘˘
Of preference there can be nought.8·/˘˘····
When all transports me with delight,8··˘/··˘/
If aught deludes I can not know,8··˘/····
She either lulls one like the Night,8·/˘·····
Or dazzles like the Morning-glow.8·/˘··/˘·
That harmony is too divine,8·/˘˘··˘/
Which governs all her body fair,8·/˘··/˘·
For powerless mortals to define8·/˘/˘·˘/
In notes the many concords there.8···/˘/··
O mystic metamorphosis8·/˘·˘/˘˘
Of all my senses blent in one!8···/˘···
Her voice a beauteous perfume is,9···/˘˘˘/·
Her breath makes music, chaste and wan.8···/˘···

The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.

More by Charles Baudelaire