This is a b.i.t.c.h b.i.t.c.h to explain but a joy to make. There is no set metre to the modern English sestina, but traditionally it has been cast in iambics. The form comprises six sixains followed by a three line to explain but a joy to make. There is no set metre to the modern English sestina, but traditionally it has been cast in iambics. The form comprises six sixains followed by a three line envoi envoi, a kind of summation or coda. So, thirty-nine lines in all. We can best see how it works by concocting a new one together. Let's begin: Stanza 1

So take the prize. You're Number O ONE.

1.

First place is yours, the glory TOO TOO.

2.

No charge for smugness, gloating's FREE FREE.

3.

It's all you've worked and striven FOR FOR,

4.

The losers wilt, the victors THRIVE THRIVE,

5.

So wear the wreath, I hope it STICKS STICKS.

6.

A silly slab of verse, but never mind. It is just a lash-up, a cardboard prototype, but it has its uses. You will notice that I have capitalised and numbered my end-words end-words. They are ONE, TOO, FREE, FOR, THRIVE ONE, TOO, FREE, FOR, THRIVE and and STICKS STICKS cunningly chosen to sound as much like the numbers 16 as I can contrive. These end-words are the cunningly chosen to sound as much like the numbers 16 as I can contrive. These end-words are the heroes heroes of a sestina. Instead of being rhymed, they are reused in a set pattern: this technique is known as of a sestina. Instead of being rhymed, they are reused in a set pattern: this technique is known as lexical repet.i.tion lexical repet.i.tion. So let us compose Stanza 2 Stanza 2. The method is to shuttle up and down the previous stanza starting at the bottom. The end word there is STICKS STICKS. I'll write a line that ends with STICKS STICKS, then: But you should know that triumph STICKS STICKS Then we go up to the top: ONE. ONE.

Like post-it notes and every ONE ONE Now we go back to the bottom: we've used up STICKS STICKS, so the next free end-word is THRIVE THRIVE: Will soon forget. The kind who THRIVE THRIVE The next unused end-word at the top is TOO TOO: Are those who show compa.s.sion TO TO Back down now and the next spare is FOR: FOR: The slow, who claim their victory FOR FOR Only one unused end-word left, FREE FREE: The weak. I'll tell you this for FREE FREE So we shuttled from bottom to top, bottom to top, bottom to top taking STICKS STICKS, ONE ONE, THRIVE THRIVE, TO TO, FOR FOR and and FREE FREE. In real digits that would be 6,1,5,2,4,3. This string of numbers is our formula formula. Stanza 2 Stanza 2 now looks like this: now looks like this: But you should know that triumph STICKS STICKSLike post-it notes and every ONE ONEWill soon forget. The kind who THRIVE THRIVEAre those who show compa.s.sion TO TOThe slow, who claim their victory FOR FORThe weak. I'll tell you this for FREE FREE, Now Stanza 3 Stanza 3 will take the sixth line from will take the sixth line from Stanza 2 Stanza 2, then the first, then the fifth and so on, according to that formula, and build itself accordingly. The sixth line of Stanza 3 Stanza 3 is now is now FREE FREE: You think that winning sets you FREE FREE?

The topmost free end-line is STICKS STICKS: No, it's a poison pill that STICKS STICKS Then FOR, WON, TO FOR, WON, TO and and THRIVE THRIVE: The h.o.m.ophone WON WON is perfectly acceptable for is perfectly acceptable for ONE ONE.

In victory's throat. Worth striving FOR FOR?The golden plaudits you have WON WONAre valueless and hollow TOO TOOThe victor's laurels never THRIVE THRIVE, Now we do the same to Stanzas 4, 5 Stanzas 4, 5 and and 6 6, shuttling between lines 6, 1, 5, 2, 4, in formula order.

The weeds of self-delusion THRIVE THRIVEOn pride: they flourish, thick and FREE FREE,To choke your glory. Thickly TOO TOOThe burr of disappointment STICKS STICKSTo tarnish all the gold you've WON WON.Is victory worth the fighting FOR FORWhen friendship's hand is only FOR FORThe weak, whose ventures never THRIVE THRIVE?I'd so much rather be the ONE ONEWho's always second. I am FREE FREETo lose. I know how much it STICKS STICKSInside your craw to come in TWO TWOBut you should learn that Number TWO TWOCan have no real meaning, FOR FORWe all must cross the River S STYXAnd go where victors never THRIVE THRIVE,No winner's rostrum there, so FREE FREEYour mind from numbers: Death has WON WON.

The sixth is the last, after that the whole pattern would repeat. All we have to do now is construct the envoi, which contains all the hero words12 in a strict order: the second and fifth word in the top line, the fourth and third in the middle line, the sixth and first in the bottom line. in a strict order: the second and fifth word in the top line, the fourth and third in the middle line, the sixth and first in the bottom line.

EnvoiIn order TO TO improve and improve and THRIVE THRIVEStop yearning FOR FOR success, be success, be FREE FREEIf this rule STICKS STICKS then all have then all have WON WON.

It may have seemed a fiendishly complicated structure and it both is and isn't. The key is to number the lines and follow the 6, 1, 5, 2, 4, 3 formula with (25, 43, 61 for the envoi). If you don't like numbers you might prefer to letter letter the lines alphabetically and make a note of this scheme: the lines alphabetically and make a note of this scheme: ABCDEF, FAEBDC, CFDABE, ECBFAD, DEACFB, BDFECA.

(BE/DC/FA).

If you want to understand the sestina's shape, you might like to think of it as a spiral. Go back and put the tip of your forefinger on STICKS STICKS in in Stanza 1 Stanza 1, without taking it off the page move it in an anticlockwise circle pa.s.sing through 1, 5, 2, 4 and 3. Do it a couple of times so you get the idea. I have made a table which you might find useful. It contains the end-lines of the sestina we built together, as well as ABC equivalents.

Sestina Table

I was rather fascinated by why a sestina works the way it does and whether it could be proved mathematically that you only need six stanzas for the pattern to repeat. Being a maths dunce, I approached my genius of a father who can find formulas for anything and he offered an elegant mathematical description of the sestina, showing its spirals and naming his algorithm in honour of Arnaud Daniel, the form's inventor, who was something of a mathematician himself, so legend has it. This mathematical proof can be found in the Appendix. If like me, formulae with big Greek letters in them mean next to nothing, you will be as baffled by it as I am, but you might like, as I do, the idea that even something as ethereal, soulful and personal as a poem can be described by numbers...

Sestinas are still being written by contemporary poets. After their invention by the twelfth-century mathematician and troubadour Arnaud Daniel, examples in English have been written by poets as varied in manner as Sir Philip Sidney, Rossetti, Swinburne, Kipling, Pound, W. H. Auden, John Ashbery, Anthony Hecht, Marilyn Hacker, Donald Justice, Howard Nemerov and Kona Macphee (see if you can find her excellent sestina 'IVF'). Swinburne's 'A Complaint to Lisa' is a double sestina double sestina, twelve stanzas of twelve lines each, a terrifying feat first achieved by Sir Philip Sidney. I mean surely that's just showing off.... I shall present two examples to show the possibilities of a form which my sample verse has made appear very false and stagy. The first is by Elizabeth Bishop, ent.i.tled simply 'Sestina', flowing between ten-, nine-and eight-syllable lines, ending with a final line of twelve: September rain falls on the house.In the failing light, the old grandmothersits in the kitchen with the childbeside the Little Marvel Stove,reading the jokes from the almanac,laughing and talking to hide her tears.She thinks that her equinoctial tearsand the rain that beats on the roof of the housewere both foretold by the almanac,but only known to a grandmother.The iron kettle sings on the stove.She cuts some bread and says to the child,It's time for tea now; but the childis watching the teakettle's small hard tearsdance like mad on the hot black stove,the way the rain must dance on the house.Tidying up, the old grandmotherhangs up the clever almanacon its string. Birdlike, the almanachovers half open above the child,hovers above the old grandmotherand her teacup full of dark brown tears.She shivers and says she thinks the housefeels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.I know what I know, says the almanac.With crayons the child draws a rigid houseand a winding pathway. Then the childputs in a man with b.u.t.tons like tearsand shows it proudly to the grandmother.But secretly, while the grandmotherbusies herself about the stove,the little moons fall down like tearsfrom between the pages of the almanacinto the flower bed the childhas carefully placed in the front of the house.Time to plant tears, says the almanac.The grandmother sings to the marvelous stoveand the child draws another inscrutable house.

It is not considered de rigueur de rigueur these days to enforce the end-word order of the envoi. This next (also called 'Sestina') is by the poet Ian Pattersonwonderful how his end-words slowly cycle their multiple meanings: these days to enforce the end-word order of the envoi. This next (also called 'Sestina') is by the poet Ian Pattersonwonderful how his end-words slowly cycle their multiple meanings: Autumn as chill as rising water lapsand files us away under former stuffthinly disguised and thrown up on a screen;one turn of the key lifts a bra.s.s tumbleranother disaster probably averted, just,while the cadence drifts in dark and old.Voices of authority are burning an oldcar on the cobbles, hands on their laps,as if there was a life where justmen slept and didn't strut their stuffon stage. I reach out for the tumblerand pour half a pint behind the screen.The whole body is in pieces. Screenmemories are not always as sharp as oldnoir phenomena. The child is like a tumblerdoing back-flips out of mothers' lapsinto all that dark s.e.xual stuffpermanently hurt that nothing is just.I'm telling you this justbecause I dream of watching you behind a screentaking your clothes off for me: the stuffof dreams, of course. Tell me the old, oldstory, real and forgetful. Time simply lapsus up, like milk from a broken tumbler.A silent figure on the stage, the tumblerstands, leaps and twists. He's justa figure of speech that won't collapselike the march of time and the silver screen;like Max Wall finally revealing he was oldand then starting again in that Beckett stuff.I'd like to take my sense of the real and stuffit. There's a kind of pigeon called a tumblerthat turns over backwards as it flies, oldand having fun; sometimes I think that's justwhat I want to do, but I can't cut or screenout the lucid drift of memory that lapsmy brittle attention just off-screenaway from the comfortable laps and the velvety stuffI spilled a tumbler of milk over before I was old.

What seems like a silly word game yields poetry of compelling mystery and rhythmic flow. What appear to be the difficulties of the form reveal themselves, as of course they should, as its strengthsthe repet.i.tion and recycling of elusive patterns that cannot be quite held in the mind all at once. Much in experience and thought deserves a poetic form that can bring such elements to life.

Poetry Exercise 15 Well, all you have to do now is write your own. It will take some time: do not expect it to be easy. If you get frustrated, walk away and come back later. Let ideas form in your mind, vanish, reform, change, adapt. The repet.i.tion of end-words in the right hands works in favour of the poem: it is a defining feature of the form, not to be disguised but welcomed. You might harness this as a means of repeating patterns of speech, as we all do in life, or in reflecting on the same things from different angles.

You can do it, believe me you can. And you will be so proud of yourself proud of yourself!

THE P PANTOUM.

How to explain the rules of this strict fifteenth-century form? A PANTOUM PANTOUM (p.r.o.nounced (p.r.o.nounced pan-tomb pan-tomb) must be composed in full cross-rhymed quatrains: abab, cdcd abab, cdcd and so on. It must begin and end with the same line, and this is how the scheme unfolds and so on. It must begin and end with the same line, and this is how the scheme unfoldsdraw breath. The second and fourth lines of the first stanza become the first and third lines of the second stanza, the second and fourth lines of the second stanza become the first and third of stanza three and so on until you reach the end. Where Where the end comes is up to you: unlike the sestina or the sonnet there is no prescribed length to the form, but when you do end you must use the two lines you will not yet have repeated, the first and third of the opening stanza, they are the end comes is up to you: unlike the sestina or the sonnet there is no prescribed length to the form, but when you do end you must use the two lines you will not yet have repeated, the first and third of the opening stanza, they are reversed in order reversed in order and become the second and fourth of the final quatrain. It sounds loopy, but if you look up and see what I have done it really isn't that hard to follow. I have numbered and lettered the lines to make it clearer. and become the second and fourth of the final quatrain. It sounds loopy, but if you look up and see what I have done it really isn't that hard to follow. I have numbered and lettered the lines to make it clearer.

The effect, as my example suggests, can be quite hypnotic or doom-laden. It can seem like wading in treacle if not adroitly handled. Such a form seems to suit dreamy evocations of time past, the echoes of memory and desire, but it need not be limited to such themes.

How the pantoum arrived in France from the Malayan peninsula in about 1830 I am not entirely sureits importation is attributed to Victor Hugo. I believe the original form, still alive and well in the Far East, uses an abba abba rhyme-scheme and insists upon eight syllables a line and thematic changes in each quatrain. I have managed the syllable count but stuck to the more usual cross-rhymes and consistency of subject matter. Since its first European use by Hugo, Baudelaire and other French pract.i.tioners it became moderately well-known and popular in England and especially America, the best-known examples being by Anne Waldman, Carolyn Kizer, John Ashbery, Donald Justice and David Trinidad. The playwright Peter Shaffer, who clearly relishes the challenge of old forms (he has experimented with villanelles, and sestinas too) composed an excellent pantoum ent.i.tled 'Juggler, Magician, Fool'. rhyme-scheme and insists upon eight syllables a line and thematic changes in each quatrain. I have managed the syllable count but stuck to the more usual cross-rhymes and consistency of subject matter. Since its first European use by Hugo, Baudelaire and other French pract.i.tioners it became moderately well-known and popular in England and especially America, the best-known examples being by Anne Waldman, Carolyn Kizer, John Ashbery, Donald Justice and David Trinidad. The playwright Peter Shaffer, who clearly relishes the challenge of old forms (he has experimented with villanelles, and sestinas too) composed an excellent pantoum ent.i.tled 'Juggler, Magician, Fool'.

Here is the opening of Carolyn Kizer's 'Parents' Pantoum'. She eschews rhyme which, given the lexical repet.i.tion demanded by the form, seems perfectly permissible. Note that enjambment and some flexibility with the repeated lines is helpful in refreshing the mood of the piece: the line 'How do they appear in their long dresses' reappears as 'In their fragile heels and long black dresses' for example, and there are additional buts and thoughs that vary the iterations. All this is usual in the modern, Western strain of pantoum.

Where did these enormous children come from,More ladylike than we have ever been?Some of ours look older than we feel.How did they appear in their long dresses

More ladylike than we have ever been?

But they moan about their aging more than we do, In their fragile heels and long black dresses.

They say they admire our youthful spontaneity.

They moan about their aging more than we do,A somber groupwhy don't they brighten up?Though they say they admire our youthful spontaneityThey beg us to be dignified like them If you are a nerdy, anagrammy, crossword puzzler sort of a person, as I tragically and irredeemably am, you will be especially drawn to the pantoum. The art, as with other lexically repet.i.tive and patterned schemes, is to choose 'open-ended' repeating lines allowing ambiguity and room for manoeuvre. It is one thing, of course, to write them as a fun exercise, quite another to make a poem of readable qualities for others. Technically the ideal is to push the normative requirements of the mode hard, sometimes to breaking point. There in lies the knackstretching the bubble until just before just before it bursts. Without hard pressure on the inner walls of its membrane the pantoumand this holds true of the other complex formscan seem a flaccid, futile exercise in wordsmanship. it bursts. Without hard pressure on the inner walls of its membrane the pantoumand this holds true of the other complex formscan seem a flaccid, futile exercise in wordsmanship.

THE B BALLADE.

BALLADE is not an easy form to crack is not an easy form to crackNo other rhymes, but only A or B;The paeon, dactyl and the amphibrach,The antispast, molossus and spondeeWill not a.s.sist us in the least degreeAs through the wilderness we grimly hackAnd sow our hopeful seeds of poetry.It's always one step forward, two steps back.But let me be Marvell, not KerouacThe open road holds no allure for me.A garden path shall be my desert track,The song of birds my jukebox melody,The neighbour's cat my Neil Ca.s.sidy.With just a mower for a CadillacI won't get far, but nor will they. You seeIt's always one step forward, two steps back.A hammock is my beatnik bivouacMy moonshine bourbon is a cup of tea.No purple hearts, no acid trips, no smackMy only buzz the humble honeybee.So let them have their free-verse libertyAnd I shall have my handsome garden shackWe'll see which one of us is truly free,It's always one step forward, two steps back.EnvoiPrince and peasant, workers, peers or bourgeoisieMcGonagall, Lord Byron, PasternakOf mongrel stock or high born pedigree-It's always one step forward, two steps back.

The BALLADE BALLADE, not to be confused with the ballad (or with the musical ballade ballade devised by Chopin), is a venerable French form of some fiendishness for English poets. The difficulty arises, not from any complexity of patterning or repet.i.tion such as is to be found in the sestina, but from the number of rhyme sounds needed. It ends with an envoi which, tradition dictates, must be addressed to a devised by Chopin), is a venerable French form of some fiendishness for English poets. The difficulty arises, not from any complexity of patterning or repet.i.tion such as is to be found in the sestina, but from the number of rhyme sounds needed. It ends with an envoi which, tradition dictates, must be addressed to a Prince Prince. Indeed the very word 'Prince' is usually the envoi's first word: this happy convention, maintained even by modern poets like Dorothy Parker, is a nod to the royal patronage enjoyed by early pract.i.tioners such as Francois Villon and Eustache Deschamps. Those who elected to write sacred ballades would begin their envois with the invocations 'Prince Jesus!', or 'Prince and Saviour!'. Each stanza, the envoi included, ends with the same refrain or rentrement rentrement. Early ballades were often composed in three seven-line stanzas, but these days an eight-line stanza with an envoi of four lines seems to have been settled upon by English-language poets. The usual rhyme scheme is ababbabA ababbabA ababbabA babA ababbabA ababbabA ababbabA babA, in other words ten a a rhymes (and a refrain, A, to rhyme with them) and rhymes (and a refrain, A, to rhyme with them) and fourteen b fourteen b rhymes. This is no doubt a doddle in French but the very b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of a mongrel b.i.t.c.h in English. G. K. Chesterton's 'The Ballade of Suicide' is one of the better-known examples: rhymes. This is no doubt a doddle in French but the very b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of a mongrel b.i.t.c.h in English. G. K. Chesterton's 'The Ballade of Suicide' is one of the better-known examples: The gallows in my garden, people say,Is new and neat and adequately tall;I tie the noose on in a knowing wayAs one that knots his necktie for a ball;But just as all the neighbourson the wallAre drawing a long breath to shout 'Hurray!'The strangest whim has seized me.... After allI think I will not hang myself to-day.To-morrow is the time I get my payMy uncle's sword is hanging in the hallI see a little cloud all pink and greyPerhaps the rector's mother will not callI fancy that I heard from Mr GallThat mushrooms could be cooked another wayI never read the works of JuvenalI think I will not hang myself to-day.The world will have another washing-day;The decadents decay; the pedants pall;And H. G. Wells has found that children play,And Bernard Shaw discovered that they squall,Rationalists are growing rationalAnd through thick woods one finds a stream astraySo secret that the very sky seems smallI think I will not hang myself to-day.EnvoiPrince, I can hear the trumpet of Germinal,The tumbrels toiling up the terrible way;Even to-day your royal head may fall,I think I will not hang myself to-day.

It reminds me of f.a.gin's song 'I'm Reviewing the Situation' from Lionel Bart's musical Oliver! Oliver! the refrain to which, 'I think I'd better think it out again', forms a similarly memorable decasyllabic chorus. Bart's number is not a ballade, of course, but the similarity demonstrates the form's derivations from, and yearnings towards, music. One of the more successful and regular tillers of the ballade's rhyme-rich soil was the Round Table with Dorothy Parker. Here is her 'Ballade of Unfortunate Mammals': the refrain to which, 'I think I'd better think it out again', forms a similarly memorable decasyllabic chorus. Bart's number is not a ballade, of course, but the similarity demonstrates the form's derivations from, and yearnings towards, music. One of the more successful and regular tillers of the ballade's rhyme-rich soil was the Round Table with Dorothy Parker. Here is her 'Ballade of Unfortunate Mammals': Love is sharper than stones or sticks;Lone as the sea, and deeper blue;Loud in the night as a clock that ticks;Longer-lived than the Wandering Jew.Show me a love was done and through,Tell me a kiss escaped its debt!Son, to your death you'll pay your dueWomen and elephants never forget.Ever a man, alas, would mix,Ever a man, heigh-ho, must woo;So he's left in the world-old fix,Thus is furthered the sale of rue.Son, your chances are thin and fewWon't you ponder, before you're set?Shoot if you must, but hold in viewWomen and elephants never forget.Down from Caesar past Joynson-HicksEchoes the warning, ever new:Though they're trained to amusing tricks,Gentler, they, than the pigeon's coo,Careful, son, of the cursed twoEither one is a dangerous pet;Natural history proves it trueWomen and elephants never forget.L'EnvoiPrince, a precept I'd leave for you,Coined in Eden, existing yet:Skirt the parlor, and shun the zooWomen and elephants never forget.

VII.

More Closed Forms The rondeaurondeau redoublethe rondelthe roundelthe rondeletthe roundelaythe triolet and the kyrielle

Yeah, right. You really really want to know about all these French Rs. Your life won't be complete without them. Well, don't be too put off by the confusing nomenclatorial similarities and Frenchy sound they seem to share. You are probably familiar with the concept of a musically sung want to know about all these French Rs. Your life won't be complete without them. Well, don't be too put off by the confusing nomenclatorial similarities and Frenchy sound they seem to share. You are probably familiar with the concept of a musically sung ROUND ROUND ('Frere Jacques', 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat', 'London Bridge' etc.) All these forms are based on the principle of a ('Frere Jacques', 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat', 'London Bridge' etc.) All these forms are based on the principle of a poetic poetic round, a (mercifully) short poem as a rule, characterised by the nature of its refrain ( round, a (mercifully) short poem as a rule, characterised by the nature of its refrain (rentrement). The avatar of these genres is the RONDEAU RONDEAU, p.r.o.nounced like the musical rondo, but with typical French equal stress.

RONDEAU.

OF MY RONDEAU RONDEAU this much is true: this much is true:Its virtues lie in open view,Unravelled is its tangled skein,Untapped the blood from every vein,Unthreaded every nut and screw.I strip it thus to show to youThe way I rhyme it, what I doTo mould its form, yet still retainThe proper shape and inward grainOF MY RONDEAU.As rhyming words in lines accrueA pleasing sense of deja-vuWill infiltrate your teeming brain.Now...here it comes the old refrain,The beating drum and proud tattooOF MY RONDEAU.

Most scholars of the genre seem to agree that in its most common form, as I have tried to demonstrate, the rondeau should be a poem of between thirteen and fifteen lines, patterned by two rhymes and a refrain R R, formed by the first half of the opening line. The scheme is represented by R-aabba aabR aabbaR R-aabba aabR aabbaR. A notable example is the Canadian poet John McCrae's rondeau, 'In Flanders Fields': IN F FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow the poppies blowBetween the crosses, row on row,That mark our place, and in the sky,The larks, still bravely singing, fly,Scarce heard amid the guns below.We are the dead; short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe!To you from failing hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high!If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

This very earnest poem subverts the usual characteristic of the form in French verse, where the rondeau is a light, graceful and merry thing that refuses to take life very seriously. Although the two examples you have seen are, so far as my very unscholarly researches can determine, the 'correct' form, the appellation rondeau has been used through the ages by English-language poets from Grimald to the present day to apply to a number of variations. Leigh Hunt's 'Rondeau: Jenny Kissed Me' adheres to the principle of a refrain culled from the first hemistich of the opening line, but adds a rhyme for it in line 6. The Jenny in question, by the way, is said to have been Thomas Carlyle's wife.13 JENNY KISSED ME when we met, when we met,Jumping from the chair she sat in;Time, you thief, who love to getSweets into your list, put that in:Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,Say that health and wealth have missed me,Say I'm growing old, but add, JENNY KISSED ME.

A variation exists (don't they always) and here it is.

RONDEAU R REDOUBLe.

THE FIRST FOUR LINES OF R RONDEAU R REDOUBLeAre chosen with especial skill and careFor each one has a vital role to playIn turn they each a heavy burden share.Disaster comes to those who don't prepareThe opening stanza in an artful waySo do, dear friends, I beg of you, bewareThe first four lines of rondeau redouble.That warning made, it's pretty safe to sayThis ancient form's a simply wrought affair,So long as all your rhymes, both B and AAre chosen with especial skill and care;For you'll need rhymes and plenty left to spareA dozen words, arranged in neat arrayThat's six, yes six in every rhyming pair,For each one has a vital role to play.So long as you these simple rules obeyYou'll have no trouble with the form, I swear.The first four lines your efforts will repay,In turn they each a heavy burden share, THE FIRST FOUR LINES.

Here, as I hope my abominable but at least accurately self-referential example makes clear, each line of Stanza 1 forms in turn an end-refrain to the next four stanzas. As in the standard rondeau, the opening hemistich is repeated to form a final coda or mini-envoi. Each stanza alternates in rhyme between abab abab and and baba baba.

Wendy Cope included an excellent example in her collection Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis and here is Dorothy Parker's charming (and charmingly t.i.tled) example 'Rondeau Redouble (and Scarcely Worth the Trouble at That)' which has an excellent coda: and here is Dorothy Parker's charming (and charmingly t.i.tled) example 'Rondeau Redouble (and Scarcely Worth the Trouble at That)' which has an excellent coda: THE SAME TO ME are somber days and gay. are somber days and gay.Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright,Because my dearest love is gone awayWithin my heart is melancholy night.My heart beats low in loneliness, despiteThat riotous Summer holds the earth in sway.In cerements my spirit is bedight;The same to me are somber days and gay.Though breezes in the rippling gra.s.ses play,And waves dash high and far in glorious might,I thrill no longer to the sparkling day,Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright.Ungraceful seems to me the swallow's flight;As well might Heaven's blue be sullen gray;My soul discerns no beauty in their sightBecause my dearest love is gone away.Let roses fling afar their crimson spray,And virgin daisies splash the fields with white,Let bloom the poppy hotly as it may,Within my heart is melancholy night.And this, oh love, my pitiable plightWhenever from my circling arms you stray;This little world of mine has lost its light...I hope to G.o.d, my dear, that you can say The same to me.

So let us now meet some of the rondeau's hopeful progeny.

RONDEL.

The RONDEL RONDEL sends the senses reeling, sends the senses reeling,And who are we to call it dead?Examples that I've seen and readHave given me the strongest feelingThat such a form is most appealingTo those whose Heart controls their Head.The rondel sends the senses reeling And who are we to call it dead?Its lines for ever roundly wheeling,Make manifest what can't be said.From wall to wall and floor to ceilingThe rondel sends the senses reelingAnd who are we to call it dead?

The RONDEL RONDEL's first couplet, as you can see, is repeated as a final refrain. There appears to be no set length, but in the later thirteen-line or fourteen-line variants such as mine (known as RONDEL PRIME RONDEL PRIME and now seemingly the standard strain in English verse) the rentrements are also repeated in the and now seemingly the standard strain in English verse) the rentrements are also repeated in the middle middle of the poem. Chaucer, Longfellow and others wrote poems they called rondels which appear to vary in all points except that crucial matter of the refrain. There again, Nicholas Grimald, the poet and scholar who just avoided burning under Mary Tudor and gave his name to Sirius Black's family home in the Harry Potter books, wrote a 'Rondel of Love' in of the poem. Chaucer, Longfellow and others wrote poems they called rondels which appear to vary in all points except that crucial matter of the refrain. There again, Nicholas Grimald, the poet and scholar who just avoided burning under Mary Tudor and gave his name to Sirius Black's family home in the Harry Potter books, wrote a 'Rondel of Love' in sixains sixains only the first verse of which has a repeated line. Austin Dobson, who enjoyed experimenting with forms of this nature (indeed, he founded a school of poets in 1876 devoted to the rediscovery of the old French only the first verse of which has a repeated line. Austin Dobson, who enjoyed experimenting with forms of this nature (indeed, he founded a school of poets in 1876 devoted to the rediscovery of the old French rondeau rondeau family), demonstrates what we might call the rondel's 'correct' form, whose lineaments my effort also shares (the italics are mine to help point up the family), demonstrates what we might call the rondel's 'correct' form, whose lineaments my effort also shares (the italics are mine to help point up the rentrements rentrements): Love comes back to his vacant dwelling,The old, old Love that we knew of yore!We see him stand by the open door,With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling.He makes as though in our arms repellingHe fain would lie as he lay beforeLove comes back to his vacant dwelling,The old, old Love that we knew of yore!Ah! who shall help us from over-spellingThat sweet, forgotten, forbidden lore?E'en as we doubt, in our hearts once more,With a rush of tears to our eyelids welling,Love comes back to his vacant dwelling,The old, old Love that we knew of yore!

It is a requirement of this 'correct' form (one that both Dobson and I met) that of the two rhymes, one should be masculine, the other feminine, contributing to the overall call-and-response character of the form.

ROUNDEL.

Swinburne developed an English version of his own which he called the ROUNDEL ROUNDEL, as you see it is closer to a rondeau than a rondel: A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere, With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought, as a ring or a starbright sphere, With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear A roundel is wrought. A roundel is wrought.Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught Love, laughter, or mourningremembrance of rapture or fearThat fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught,So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear, A roundel is wrought.

RONDELET.

I cannot singA RONDELET RONDELET of love to thee of love to theeI cannot singI try to let my voice take wing,It never seems to stay in keyAnd if you heard me, you'd agreeI cannot sing Pretty clear, clear and pretty, the RONDELET RONDELET goes goes AbAabbA AbAabbA as mine demonstrates. I don't know of any spectacular examples (aside from my own) of the rondelet, p.r.o.nounced as if it were a Welsh valley song (or indeed s.e.xual experience) a as mine demonstrates. I don't know of any spectacular examples (aside from my own) of the rondelet, p.r.o.nounced as if it were a Welsh valley song (or indeed s.e.xual experience) a Rhondda Lay Rhondda Lay. The good old English version of the word might promise a similar form, you would be ent.i.tled to think.

ROUNDELAY.

Actually the ROUNDELAY ROUNDELAY is rather different: is rather different: My hee-haw voice is like a brayNothing sounds so asinineLittle causes more dismayThan my dreadful donkey whine.Hear me sing a ROUNDELAY ROUNDELAYThere is no fouler voice than mine.Little causes more dismayThan my dreadful donkey whine.Hear me sing a roundelayThere is no fouler voice than mine.Stop your singing right away,Else we'll break your f.u.c.king spine.Hear me sing a roundelayThere is no fouler voice than mine.

As you see, pairs of lines repeat in order. Here is 'A Roundelay' by the late seventeenth-century poet Thomas Scott: Man, that is for woman madeAnd the woman made for man.As the spur is for the jade.As the scabbard for the bladeAs for liquor is the can,So man is for the woman madeAnd the woman made for man.

And so on for two more stanzas: for Scott and his contemporaries a roundelay seemed to be any poem with the same two-line refrain at the beginning and end of each stanza, but Samuel Beckett did write a poem called 'roundelay' with full and fascinating internal line repet.i.tion. Your task is to find a copy of it and discover its beauties and excellence. Award yourself twenty points if you can get your hands on it within a week.

TRIOLET.

This TRIOLET TRIOLET of my design of my designIs sent with all my heart to you,Devotion dwells in every line.This triolet of my designIs not so swooningly divineAs you, my darling Valentine.This triolet of my designI send with all my heart to you.

The TRIOLET TRIOLET is p.r.o.nounced in one of three ways: to rhyme with 'violet', or the halfway house is p.r.o.nounced in one of three ways: to rhyme with 'violet', or the halfway house tree-o-lett tree-o-lett, or tree-o-lay tree-o-lay in the full French manner: simply stated it is an eight-line poem whose first ( in the full French manner: simply stated it is an eight-line poem whose first (A) and second (B) lines are repeated at the end: the first line also repeats as the fourth. ABaAbbAB ABaAbbAB in other words. It is, I suppose, the in other words. It is, I suppose, the threefold threefold repeat of that first line that give it the 'trio' name. Do you remember Frances Cornford's 'To a Fat Lady Seen from a Train' which we looked at when thinking about rhymes for 'love'? If we look at it again, we can see that it is in fact a triolet. repeat of that first line that give it the 'trio' name. Do you remember Frances Cornford's 'To a Fat Lady Seen from a Train' which we looked at when thinking about rhymes for 'love'? If we look at it again, we can see that it is in fact a triolet.

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,Missing so much and so much?O fat white woman whom n.o.body loves,Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,When the gra.s.s is soft as the breast of dovesAnd shivering sweet to the touch?O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,Missing so much and so much?