Omnibus
My Fortune and my choice this custome break,When we are speechlesse grown, to make stones speak,Though no stone tell thee what I was, yet thouIn my graves inside seest what thou art now:Yet thou'art not yet so good, till death us layTo ripe and mellow here, we are stubborne Clay.Parents make us earth, and soules dignifieVs to be glasse; here to grow gold we lie.Whilst in our soules sinne bred and pamper'd is,Our soules become wormeaten carkases;So we our selves miraculously destroy.Here bodies with lesse miracle enjoySuch priviledges, enabled here to scaleHeaven, when the Trumpets ayre shall them exhale.Heare this, and mend thy selfe, and thou mendst me,By making me being dead, doe good to thee,And thinke me well compos'd, that I could nowA last-sicke houre to syllables allow.
Words in this poem
- sinne adv.
- Old form of Since. [Obs. or Prov.Eng. & Scot.]
- trumpets n.
- A plant (Sarracenia flava) with long, hollow leaves.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Omnibus is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of John Donne, Volume 1 (of 2) Edited from the Old Editions and Numerous Manuscripts, Project Gutenberg ebook #48688; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: John Donne, Omnibus, in Poems (1633), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #48688, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/donne-poems/omnibus.html, id L04995.
Form and metre
Omnibus is 18 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 67% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 80%). 90% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.2 syllables. 33% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.
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 --AABB----CCDDEEAA break · speak · thouA · nowA · layB · clayB · dignifie · lie · is · carkases · destroyC · enjoyC · scaleD · exhaleD · meE · theeE · nowA · allowA
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 pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| My Fortune and my choice this custome break, | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| When we are speechlesse grown, to make stones speak, | 10 | ·········· |
| Though no stone tell thee what I was, yet thou | 10 | ·········· |
| In my graves inside seest what thou art now: | 10 | ···˘/····· |
| Yet thou'art not yet so good, till death us lay | 10 | ·········· |
| To ripe and mellow here, we are stubborne Clay. | 11 | ···/˘······ |
| Parents make us earth, and soules dignifie | 10 | /˘········ |
| Vs to be glasse; here to grow gold we lie. | 11 | /˘········· |
| Whilst in our soules sinne bred and pamper'd is, | 10 | ··/····/˘· |
| Our soules become wormeaten carkases; | 10 | /˘·˘//˘··· |
| So we our selves miraculously destroy. | 10 | ··/·˘/˘˘˘/ |
| Here bodies with lesse miracle enjoy | 10 | ·/˘··/˘˘˘/ |
| Such priviledges, enabled here to scale | 11 | ·····˘/˘··· |
| Heaven, when the Trumpets ayre shall them exhale. | 10 | /··/˘···˘/ |
| Heare this, and mend thy selfe, and thou mendst me, | 10 | ·········· |
| By making me being dead, doe good to thee, | 10 | ·/˘·/····· |
| And thinke me well compos'd, that I could now | 10 | ····˘/···· |
| A last-sicke houre to syllables allow. | 10 | ·····/˘˘˘/ |
Notes from the edition 5
Herbert Grierson's record of the readings of the early editions and manuscripts, from his Poems of John Donne (Oxford, 1912; Project Gutenberg #48688).
- Line 3 tell] tel 1635
- Line 4 seest] see D, H49: compare incomplete version.
- Line 8 lie. Ed: lie; 1635-69
- Line 14 them] then 1669
- Line 16 to thee, B, D, H40, H49, O'F, S96: for thee, 1635-69
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.