Kyrielle
The name kyrielle derives from the Kýrie, which is part of many Christian liturgies. Originated in the 15th century with the traveling troubadours. A kyrielle is a French form of rhyming poetry written in quatrains (a stanza consisting of 4 lines), and each quatrain contains a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). The refrain can change from stanza to stanza but usually keeps the same last word. It may use the phrase "Lord, have mercy", or a variant on it. Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables. There is no limit to the number of stanzas a kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum.
STRUCTURE:
Kyrielle poetry is written in quatrains, with a defined rhyming scheme. There is no limit to the number of stanzas but the minimum is usually three. Some popular rhyming schemes for a Kyrielle are: aabB, ccbB, ddbB, with B being the repeated line or abaB, cbcB, dbdB. Mixing up the rhyme scheme is possible for an unusual pattern of axaZ, bxbZ, cxcZ, dxdZ, with Z being the repeated line.
With broken heart and contrite sigh,
A trembling sinner, Lord, I cry:
Thy pard'ning grace is rich and free:
O God, be merciful to me.
I smite upon my troubled breast,
With deep and conscious guilt oppress,
Christ and His cross my only plea:
O God, be merciful to me.
Far off I stand with tearful eyes,
Nor dare uplift them to the skies;
But Thou dost all my anguish see:
O God, be merciful to me.
Nor alms, nor deeds that I have done,
Can for a single sin atone;
To Calvary alone I flee:
O God, be merciful to me.
And when, redeemed from sin and hell,
With all the ransomed throng I dwell,
My raptured song shall ever be,
God has been merciful to me.
Some days I sing, some days I cry.
My soul's the one determines why.
Sometimes it laughs, sometimes it mourns.
On my bouquet are many thorns.
Wake up each day, face a dark cloud.
My happiness wrapped in a shroud.
The day begins; to me it scorns.
On my bouquet are many thorns.
Lay down my head, dark nights begun.
With the sad setting of the sun.
From all my sorrows my heart mourns.
On my bouquet are many thorns.