by Paul Zollo
Dear kindly Judge, your Honor
My parents treat me rough,
With all the marijuana,
They won’t give me a puff.
They didn’t wanna have me,
But somehow I was had.
Leapin’ lizards, that’s why I’m so bad!
—“Officer Krupke”
Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and music by Leonard Bernstein
Sondheim even pointed to this very method when asked by Time magazine about his capacity for constructing great rhymes. “Clever rhyming is easy. To rhyme orange is no trick at all. Anybody can do it. You can say ‘an orange, or a porringer.’”
In rap and hip-hop lyrics, it’s common to dive into the waters of word play—often uncommon words are rhymed and unusual rhymes are discovered, as in this example by Busta Rhymes:
A microphone fiend, so I’m goin’ to see my P.O.
It’s August the 1st, so I guess I’m a Leo
My P.O., look like Vanessa Del Rio
She pulled my rap sheet, just like, Neo Geo
—“Abandon Ship” by Busta Rhymes
Rhyme Schemes
A rhyme scheme is a predetermined pattern of rhymes that is used and repeated in a section of a song or poem. Rhyme schemes are noted by the use of letters, with each letter referring to a line rhyme. A repeating letter in the scheme means there is a rhyme at the end of that line that matches. For example, in an abcb rhyme scheme, which is a common one, the b lines rhyme, which are the second and fourth lines of the quatrain (a four line verse)—while the a and the c lines do not rhyme. An example would be:
I went walking down the street (a)
I was feeling sad and blue (b)
The sun was shining down (c)
And I was thinking of you (b)
In that example, the b lines rhyme—“blue” and “you.”
Or this example from The Beatles:
When I find myself in times of trouble (a)
Mother Mary comes to me (b)
Speaking words of wisdom (c)
Let it be (b)
—“Let It Be” by John Lennon and Paul McCartney
A slightly more intricate rhyme scheme is the abab rhyme scheme, in which the first and third line rhyme, and the second and fourth line also rhyme. It’s what I refer to as a Byronic rhyme scheme, as the poet Lord Byron often used it, and I like using the word ‘Byronic’ whenever I can. Dylan, who loves the work of Byron, also uses this scheme frequently. A classic example of the abab rhyme scheme by Lord Byron would be from the poem “She Walks In Beauty,” written in 1815, which fits neatly into our purposes here, as it flows so beautifully in terms of content and structure that it was used as the lyric for a song, with music adapted by a traditional Jewish melody by Isaac Nathan.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes…
—“She Walks In Beauty” by Lord Byron
Ralph Waldo Emerson used the abab pattern to comment on the art of poetry itself:
“Olympian bards who sung,
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young,
And always keep us so.”
Also quite common is the aabb rhyme scheme, which, as you’ve probably surmised by now, is created by rhyming the first with the second line, and also the third with the fourth word. A good example of that is found in the poem “Lamia,” by Keats:
It was the custom then to bring away (a)
The bride from home at blushing shut of day, (a)
Veil’d, in a chariot, heralded along (b)
By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song. (b)
—“Lamia, Part II” by John Keats
One of my favorite examples of the aabb rhyme scheme was used in a song by one of my favorite songwriters, Randy Newman, in his hilarious and brilliant song “Political Science.” Randy is a master at combining humor and commentary, and in this song does just that, ridiculing the prevalent jingoism of Americans by adopting the attitude of an American who feels our best foreign policy involves nuking other nations:
We give them money but are they grateful
No, they’re spiteful and they’re hateful
They don’t respect us—so let’s surprise them
We’ll drop the big one and pulverize them
—“Political Science” by Randy Newman
(It’s funny to note that, when I asked him about using false rhymes, Randy laughed and told me that because of the way he sings, rarely enunciating well, that nobody notices if he uses real rhymes or not. “I’ll rhyme ‘girl’ with ‘world,’ you know, if I need to,” he told me. It’s been reported that Sondheim was upset about Randy using this particular false rhyme.)
Rhyme schemes are beautiful, because they give a songwriter a form within which to work. It’s a place to hang your hat. It’s a foundation—and building a secure structure necessarily begins with creating a firm foundation. And these structures can lead a writer towards revelatory innovations, as Mark Salerno explained: “From the writer’s point of view,” Salerno said, “rhyme and other formal structures can free us from ‘the fetters of the self,’ as Auden put it, because they interrupt our habits. We want to use one word, but it doesn’t complete the rhyme, so we’re forced to select another. In this way, the form generates the poem, at least in part. This can lead to delightful discoveries that the author had no way of anticipating when he or she sat down to write.” Like his poems, Salerno’s words on this subject resonate: The form generates the poem. It can also generate the song. It’s a foundational truth that all songwriters and poets understand. Writing a song or a poem, as I stated earlier, is both a process of following and leading. The writer chooses a rhyme scheme in which to work, and then follows that scheme to assemble a structure.
As previously mentioned, both Dylan and Byron often used the interlocking abab rhyme scheme. I call it “interlocking” because the rhymes are intertwined—the first and the third line rhyme, as do the second and the fourth line. Keats also frequently employed the abab scheme, as in this quatrain from his beautiful poem “Ode On Melancholy”:
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud…
—“Ode On Melancholy” by John Keats
William Shakespeare was not only one of the greatest playwrights ever in the history of the English language, but also one of its greatest poets. In his lifetime he wrote 154 beautiful sonnets on the subjects of time, love, death, and life. Though there are several kinds of rhyme schemes that are used in English sonnets, Shakespeare always used the same rhyme scheme in his 14 line sonnets, which is an abab-cdcd-efef-gg rhyme scheme. He was not limited by the form—again, as Krishnamurti explained, “Limitations create possibilities.” David Ogilvy, who has been called “The Father of Advertising,” used the example of the Shakespearean sonnet as evidence of his contention that greatness can be achieved within an exacting form—in this example, a rhymed form. “Shakespeare wrote his sonnets within a strict discipline,” he said, “14 lines of iambic pentameter, rhyming in three quatrains and a couplet. Were his sonnets dull?”
As an example, here is my personal favorite Shakespeare sonnet, number 73:
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes
of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consum’d with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
For other examples of great usages of intricate rhyme schemes in songs, look to Dylan’s work. (Many scholars have suggested that Shakespeare didn’t write all his own work. I suggested to Dylan that people might think the same about him and his work after he is gone. “People have a hard time accepting anything that overwhelms them,” he said. “[People] could look back [at my work] and think nobody produced it.” Then, softly, and somewhat wistfully, he added, “It’s not to anybody’s best interest to think how they will be perceived tomorrow. It hurts you in the long run.”) In his classic song, “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding),” he used a rhyme scheme few songwriters have used, since it relies on rhyming five lines in a row, an aaaaab rhyme scheme:
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
— “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” by Bob Dylan
As mentioned, Dylan often employs interlocking rhyme schemes, such as an abab rhyme scheme, in which every line of a quatrain rhymes with another. It’s not an easy rhyme scheme to use and still maintain a natural and colloquial flow to a verse, but when it’s done well, as Dylan has countless times, it can be sublime. One of my favorite examples of this rhyme scheme is in the song “Isis,” which Dylan wrote with the playwright Jacques Levy:
She was there in the meadow where the creek used to rise.
Blinded by sleep and in need of a bed,
I came in from the East with the sun in my eyes.
I cursed her one time then I rode on ahead.
—“Isis” by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy
Cole Porter also used this abab rhyme scheme in many songs, including “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”:
I’d sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear
—“I’ve Got You Under My Skin” by Cole Porter
Of course, songwriters can devise any rhyme scheme they choose. The goal is to maintain it through the entire song. The aforementioned Leonard Cohen also sometimes concocts intricate rhyme schemes to structure his verses, which are often expansive. In “Democracy,” which I quoted from earlier, he employs a ten-line aabba-cdedd rhyme scheme (note that the c and e rhymes—“broken” and “open”—are false rhymes which, though false do add structure to the whole):
It’s coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken
and it’s here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
—“Democracy” by Leonard Cohen
Stephen Sondheim has also devised many wondrously Byzantine rhyme schemes for his songs but uses them only for characters who are educated and would think in complex terms. That Sondheim would embrace complex rhyme schemes makes sense when you learn that he’s a man who adores puzzles of all kinds—and to construct a song with an intricate rhyme scheme that is maintained throughout is not unlike inventing a puzzle. He also devises musical puzzles for himself that he solves in his work. In his beautiful score for A Little Night Music, for example, every song is in T or some division of three. But he transforms these puzzles into art, as in the song “Liasons” from A Little Night Music, which, like Cohen’s “Democracy,” has a ten-line pattern, this one being an abcd-abcd-ee rhyme scheme:
What was once a rare champagne
Is now just an amiable hock,
What once was a villa at least
Is “digs.”
What once was a gown with train
Is now just a simple little frock,
What once was a sumptuous feast Is figs.
No, no, not even figs—raisins.
Ah, liaisons!
—“Liasons” by Stephen Sondheim
Sondheim, as students of songwriting know, was mentored in the art and craft of writing lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein. In 1971, he shared with Time magazine some of the wisdom on this subject that Hammerstein shared with him, specifying that it’s not the hard words that are hard to rhyme, it’s the easy ones. “Hammerstein said that the really difficult word to rhyme is a word like ‘day’,” said Sondheim, “because the possibilities are so enormous. One of the things I’ve learned is that the way to get a laugh in a song is not through the cleverness of the rhyme but by what you’re saying. The biggest laugh in Forum, is the line in the warriors’ song: “I am a parade.” That’s a brilliant line—and it’s not mine, it’s Plautus’.”
Sondheim is admirably adept at weaving long and elaborate webs of rhyme, which tie together his dazzling wordplay with inventive, funny and inspired verbal links, as in this classic example from the same musical, which sets up the title with an astoundingly capacious rhyme scheme: aabb-ccdd-eeff-gggg-hhii-jkj:
Pantaloons and tunics!
Courtesans and eunuchs!
Funerals and chases!
Baritones and basses!
Panderers! Philanderers!
Cupidity! Timidity!
Fakes! Mistakes!
Rhymes! Mimes!
Tumblers! Fumblers! Grumblers! Mumblers!
No royal curse, no Trojan horse,
And a happy ending, of course!
Goodness and badness,
Man in his madness,
This time it all turns out all right.
Tragedy tomorrow!
Comedy Tonight!
—“Comedy Tonight” by Stephen Sondheim
Though songwriters almost always refer to rhyme schemes by their letter names, the following is a list of rhyme schemes and their names:
Chant royal: Five stanzas of ababccddede followed by either ddede or ccddede
Cinquain: ababb
Clerihew: aabb aabb
Couplet: aa, but usually occurs as aa bb cc dd …
Enclosed rhyme (or enclosing rhyme): abba
Limerick: aabba
Monorhyme: aaaaa … an identical rhyme on every line, common in Latin and Arabic
Ottava rima: abababcc
Rhyme royal: ababbcc
Rondelet: abaabba
Rubaiyat: aaba
Sonnets:
Petrarchan sonnet: abba abba cde cde or abba abba cdc cdc
Shakespearean sonnet: abab cdcd efef gg
Simple 4-line: abcb
Spenserian sonnet: abab bcbc cdcd ee
Onegin stanzas: ababccddeffegg
Spenserian stanza: “ababbcbec”.
Tanaga: traditional Tagalog tanaga is aaaa
Terza rima: aba bcb cdc …, ending on yzy z or yzy zz
Triplet: aaa, often repeating like the couplet
Inner or Internal Rhymes
An inner rhyme is, quite simply, a rhyme that occurs within a line, as opposed to at the end of a line. They are not used necessarily to replace the end rhyme but to add extra spice, rhythm, and structure to a line. Scrypt, or text, as it’s often known, is a modern style of hip-hop poetry, which often uses inner rhymes. An example is the song “Damage” by Sage Francis, which—though it employs some impure rhymes—comes across with the rhythm and vitality which is at the heart of hip-hop:
I am a nightmare walkin’,
psychopath stalkin’ Natalie Portman
with a blank tape in my
walkman
—“Damage” by Sage Francis
A much older example—this one from a classic Gershwin song—actually, the final song that Ira and George Gershwin ever wrote together, “Our Love Is Here To Stay” is:
It’s very clear our love is here to stay
Not for a year, but ever and a day…
—“Our Love Is Here To Stay” by George and Ira Gershwin
In this example, “stay” and “day” are the outer rhymes, while “clear,” “here,” and “year” are inner rhymes. As with all inner rhymes—especially those that are used well—they might not be noticed at all by the listener as rhymes, but they add an unmistakable cohesion and grace to a lyric.
