There is a willow grows aslant the brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There with fantastic garlands did she come.
How insane lovers’ words spoken in romance
when in those stolen moments on our own,
I would drown in the beauty of his glance.
My brother warned me it was just a trance,
my virtue would be sullied about town.
How insane these words spoken in romance.
My sweetheart thought I only lived to dance
then later with his head laid in my gown,
I would drown in the beauty of his glance.
My love mocked how my father used to prance.
Do nuns sing sowing gardens all alone?
How insane these words spoken in romance.
Rosemary, how bitter sweet the fragrance,
when lovers, like old willows, tumble down.
I would drown in the beauty of his glance.
See now how white blossom begins to dance
so tender these water weeds have grown.
How insane these words spoken in romance.
I would drown in the beauty of his glance.
Oh, my! The story of young love. Does it ever really change through the ages? 2007 is really not much different than 1907 or 1807. Your words are beautiful and I look at the rhyme scheme and I am just floored that had to be a difficult form to complete. And then you excelled at it. This is so beautiful.
Classic romanticism.....what some would call puppy love is quite real, n'est pas? This form is particularly lovely and very difficult to write. Your words flow and though they are flowery, they work without "feeling" like a confection. Excellent work. Lydia
The discipline it takes to write in structure is hard to come by, yet this is well done. You do not force, but stay within the structure making it look easy. Reminscent of the Cavalier poets, the romantics. A wonderful throw back, really old school. Good work.
A villanelle! I love these but can't write them for a damn. I absolutely love the flow, the rhythm and the rhyme. A sweet, sentimental, romantic piece as well. Drowning in love (don't we all?) Well done! Rob
I agree with Ken, Millais did the best Ophelia. Siddall, the model, married Rossetti.
Of course the source of this is:
There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
There with fantastic garlands did she come
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
-Queen Gertrude
Hamlet. Act IV, Scene VII
Poor Ophelia, a pawn in the ambitions of men; and put in a place she could not ever win. Get thee to a punnery! With haste! Pray, God hath mercy and love to spare.
Country matters indeed. I think if Hamlet were written now Ophelia would have been into emo, cutting herself for art, pain and such. To have a Villanelle from her pov is really wonderful since we really never hear her speak except in reaction to all the controlling men in her life. She's like one of those flower petals she keeps plucking; too gentle a creature for the world around her. Even if things had ever worked out between her and Hamlet, he would have eventually destroyed her. So she is truly a tragic figure; "drowning in the love of his glance." Gorgeous lines by the way and it took me a bit to recognize the form since I was so captivated by the subject and beautiful lines.
Not knowing how to review a villanelle i read it over teens of times letting the stream of thoughts and repetition have its way with me. It fits well with the maddening feelings of despair. as willows do so tumble down.tender water weeds for a comfortable ending. I liked it, and more after attempting to review it
A beautiful jaunt into a bygone era when ladies swooned and lived and died for their loves, would we die for them now? I'm not so sure but the old romance was so terribly gripping way back when, when we were so easily captivated captive and sheltered from thinking anything other than an undying love,,, oh I almost sound cynical, oh to be lost in that wonderful naivety once again.
I loves me some villanelle, and this is a fine, fine example of the form. Takes the Ophelia character and fleshes it out elegantly. A beautiful, well-structured and artfully executed piece of work.
Worthy of Rossetti, the poet not the painter. Millais did Ophelia better. Do you know what happened to his model, Lizzie Siddoll because he only lit the bathrub she was floating in with candles. And do you know what Rossetti did ten years later?
Listening to Ophelia speak here was truly wonderful. A lovely classic piece of Romance Ken.
Born in 1560 in Stratford-upon-Avon. I have a passion for writing but my parents wanted me to marry early. I ran away from home to see if I could make my fortune in London as my older brother had d.. more..