Poetry Is Pretentious

A villanelle is a highly structured form of poetry characterized by its unique rhyme scheme and repetitive lines. It consists of 19 lines divided into five tercets (three-line stanzas) followed by a concluding quatrain (four-line stanza). The rhyme scheme of a villanelle is ABA for the tercets, and ABAA for the quatrain. What sets the villanelle apart is its specific pattern of repeated lines: the first and third lines of the initial tercet alternate as the final lines of the following tercets and then come together as the last two envoy lines of the poem. This repetition creates a haunting and musical quality, emphasizing certain themes or emotions throughout the poem. The fixed structure of the villanelle demands careful craftsmanship, making it a challenging but rewarding form for poets to explore.

Rules of the Villanelle

1. It is a poem of 19 lines
   2. There are 5 tercets and a final quatrain
   3. The rhyme scheme for tercets is ABA
   4. The rhyme scheme for quatrain is ABAA
   5. First and Third lines of initial tercet are repeated throughout
   6. First and Third lines repeated as final 2 lines of poem
   7. Look at examples for clarity

Examples of Villanelle

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

The House on the Hill by Edwin Arlington Robinson

They are all gone away,
The House is shut and still,
There is nothing more to say.

Through broken walls and gray
The winds blow bleak and shrill:
They are all gone away.

Nor is there one to-day
To speak them good or ill:
There is nothing more to say.

Why is it then we stray
Around the sunken sill?
They are all gone away,

And our poor fancy-play
For them is wasted skill:
There is nothing more to say.

There is ruin and decay
In the House on the Hill:
They are all gone away,
There is nothing more to say.