ticket2write

Villanelle
Home
Manuscript Preparation
The Structure of the Novel
Plotting the Mystery Novel
Categories of Mysteries
Romance Novels
Category Romance
Story Checklist
Glossary of Poetry Terms
Critiquing Poetry
Journaling
Conferences
Poetry Markets (UK)
Poetry Markets A
Poetry Markets B
Poetry Markets C
Poetry Markets D
Poetry Markets E
Poetry Markets F
Poetry Markets G
Poetry Markets H
Poetry Markets I
Poetry Markets J
Poetry Markets K
Poetry Markets L
Poetry Markets M
Poetry Markets N
Poetry Markets O
Poetry Markets P
Poetry Markets Q
Poetry Markets R
Poetry Markets S
Poetry Markets T
Poetry Markets U
Poetry Markets V
Poetry Markets W
Poetry Markets X
Poetry Markets Y
Poetry Markets Z

The villanelle has no established meter, although most nineteenth-century villanelles had eight or six syllables per line and most twentieth-century villanelles had ten syllables per line. The essence of the fixed modern form is its distinctive pattern of rhyme and repetition. The rhyme-and-refrain pattern of the villanelle can be schematized as A1bA2 abA1 abA2 abA1 abA2 abA1A2 where letters ("a" or "A" and "b") indicate the two rhyme sounds, upper case indicates a refrain ("A"), and superscript numerals (1 and 2) indicate Refrain 1 and Refrain 2.

Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 2 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 4 (a)
Line 5 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 7 (a)
Line 8 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 10 (a)
Line 11 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 13 (a)
Line 14 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 16 (a)
Line 17 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Refrain 2 (A2)

Example:
 
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.
 
                                         Dylan Thomas

Enter supporting content here