Another Version
Earth's wheels run oiled with blood. Forget we that.Let us lie down and dig ourselves in thought.Beauty is yours and you have mastery,Wisdom is mine, and I have mystery.We two will stay behind and keep our troth.Let us forego men's minds that are brute's natures,Let us not sup the blood which some say nurtures,Be we not swift with swiftness of the tigress.Let us break ranks from those who trek from progress.Miss we the march of this retreating worldInto old citadels that are not walled.Let us lie out and hold the open truth.Then when their blood hath clogged the chariot wheelsWe will go up and wash them from deep wells.What though we sink from men as pitchers fallingMany shall raise us up to be their fillingEven from wells we sunk too deep for warAnd filled by brows that bled where no wounds were.
Words in this poem
- oiled a.
- Covered or treated with oil; dressed with, or soaked in, oil.
- troth n.
- Belief; faith; fidelity. [A variant of truth. See Truth.]
- forego v. t.
- To quit; to relinquish; to leave. [See Forgo.]
- tigress n.
- The female of the tiger. Holland. [From Tiger: cf. F. tigresse.]
- trek v. i.
- To draw or haul a load, as oxen.
- 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
Another Version is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems, Project Gutenberg ebook #1034; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Wilfred Owen, Another Version, in Poems (1920), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1034, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/owen-poems/another-version.html, id L04664.
Form and metre
Another Version is 18 lines in a single verse paragraph. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 80%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.3 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 28% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic pentameter, other poems in blank verse.
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 -------AA--------- that · thought · mastery · mystery · troth · natures · nurtures · tigressA · progressA · world · walled · truth · wheels · wells · falling · filling · war · were
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Earth's wheels run oiled with blood. Forget we that. | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Let us lie down and dig ourselves in thought. | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| Beauty is yours and you have mastery, | 10 | /˘·····/˘˘ |
| Wisdom is mine, and I have mystery. | 10 | /˘·····/˘˘ |
| We two will stay behind and keep our troth. | 10 | ········/· |
| Let us forego men's minds that are brute's natures, | 11 | ··˘/·····/˘ |
| Let us not sup the blood which some say nurtures, | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Be we not swift with swiftness of the tigress. | 11 | ·····/˘··/˘ |
| Let us break ranks from those who trek from progress. | 11 | ·········/· |
| Miss we the march of this retreating world | 10 | ······˘/˘· |
| Into old citadels that are not walled. | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Let us lie out and hold the open truth. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Then when their blood hath clogged the chariot wheels | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| We will go up and wash them from deep wells. | 10 | ·········· |
| What though we sink from men as pitchers falling | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| Many shall raise us up to be their filling | 11 | /˘·······/˘ |
| Even from wells we sunk too deep for war | 10 | /˘········ |
| And filled by brows that bled where no wounds were. | 10 | ·········· |
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.