Poem by William Ernest Henley

Villanelle

A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.

A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.

You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.

Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well. 

1. Echoes. 23. The Skies Are Strown with Stars
2. Echoes. 37. Or Ever the Knightly Years Were Gone
3. Rhymes and Rhythms. Epilogue
4. Attadale, West Highlands
5. Echoes. 30. Kate-a-Whimsies, John-a-Dreams

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