Cracking the Chant Royal Rhyme Code with 3 Patterns

Why is the chant royal so obsessed with rhyme?

If you’ve only ever written free verse, the chant royal can feel almost absurdly strict. Five stanzas of 11–12 lines, all sharing the same handful of rhyme sounds, plus a short envoy at the end that uses those very same rhymes yet again.

Why would anyone do this to themselves?

Because limitations can be oddly liberating. When your rhyme scheme is locked in, you stop worrying about what shape the poem should take and start focusing on how to say what you want inside that shape. The chant royal turns rhyme into a kind of mental puzzle. You’re juggling a story, a repeating line, and a rigid pattern—if you pull it off, it feels like solving a tricky level in a game.

Historically, the chant royal was used for big, elevated topics: kings, saints, moral lessons, or heroic tales. The demanding rhyme scheme matched the “grand” mood. These days, you can absolutely use it for something more playful—love, politics, or even your cat’s secret double life—but the bones of the form stay the same.

Before we dive into specific patterns, let’s pin down the basic architecture.

The basic skeleton of a chant royal

Most traditional descriptions of chant royal agree on a few core features:

5 main stanzas, usually 11 or 12 lines each
1 envoy (a short final stanza) of about 5–7 lines
Only 5 rhyme sounds used throughout the entire poem
A repeating line (a refrain) that ends each stanza and often appears in the envoy

We usually mark the rhyme pattern with letters, like this:

Different letters = different rhyme sounds
The same letter = the same rhyme sound
The refrain is often marked with a capital letter (for example, A)

So if you see a pattern like ababbccddedA, it means:

Lines ending in a all rhyme with each other
Lines ending in b all rhyme with each other
And so on
The final A is the repeated refrain line, which stays exactly (or almost exactly) the same in every stanza

Now let’s get to the fun part: three concrete rhyme schemes you can actually use.

Pattern 1: The classic 11‑line chant royal

A very common pattern for an 11‑line chant royal stanza looks like this:

Stanzas (1–5): ababbccddedA
Envoy: ddedA

You can think of this as the “standard issue” pattern. It looks complicated on paper, but once you see how it flows, it’s actually pretty satisfying.

How this pattern behaves in a poem

Take Maya, who decided (for reasons known only to her) to write a chant royal about the life of a street musician. She picks these rhyme sounds:

a = street
b = light
c = glow
d = rain
e = sound
A (refrain) = And still the city hums around my feet.

Her first stanza, in rough sketch form, might fall into place like this:

Line 1 (a): ends with street
Line 2 (b): ends with light
Line 3 (a): another word rhyming with street
Line 4 (b): another rhyme with light
Line 5 (b): again, rhyme with light
Line 6 (c): rhyme with glow
Line 7 (c): rhyme with glow
Line 8 (d): rhyme with rain
Line 9 (d): rhyme with rain
Line 10 (e): rhyme with sound
Line 11 (A): the refrain, And still the city hums around my feet.

Every stanza follows that same pattern. The envoy then zooms in on the d and e rhymes, ending again on the refrain:

Line 1 (d)
Line 2 (d)
Line 3 (e)
Line 4 (d)
Line 5 (A) – same refrain as before

Why this pattern works so well

This version gives you a nice mix:

A and B rhymes weave through the top of the stanza, almost like a conversation
The C and D rhymes give the middle and lower part of the stanza some weight
The E rhyme appears right before the refrain, setting it up like a drum roll

Because the refrain always returns, you get this feeling of circling back—like each stanza is another angle on the same core idea.

If you’re trying chant royal for the first time, this pattern is actually a pretty friendly place to start. You can map it out on paper, pick your five rhyme sounds in advance, and then fill in the lines like you’re solving a puzzle.

Pattern 2: The 12‑line variant with a slightly looser feel

There’s also a 12‑line version that adds just a bit more breathing room. One traditional pattern looks like this:

Stanzas (1–5): ababbccddedeA
Envoy: ddedeA

It’s very close to the previous one, but notice where the e rhyme shows up. Instead of appearing only once near the end, it now appears twice in the stanza, and the envoy picks up that rhythm too.

How this pattern shifts the rhythm

Let’s say Leo is writing a chant royal about climate change protests. He chooses:

a = fire
b = street
c = cry
d = stone
e = sky
A (refrain) = We raise our signs beneath a borrowed sky.

In this 12‑line pattern, the end of his stanza might feel like it’s bouncing between d and e before landing on the refrain. That back‑and‑forth can add a sense of tension or urgency.

The envoy, with ddedeA, really leans into that echo:

Two d rhymes set the tone
An e rhyme lifts the sound
Another d pulls it back down
The refrain A nails the final thought

When you might prefer this pattern

Because the e rhyme appears more often, it starts to feel like a secondary anchor, not just a setup for the refrain. That can be useful if:

You want a more musical, echoing sound near the end of each stanza
You like the idea of your stanza “rocking” between two sounds before landing on the refrain

It’s only one extra line per stanza, but that extra space can make the poem feel a bit more spacious and lyrical.

Pattern 3: A tighter envoy that hits like a final chord

Some poets like to keep the 11‑line stanza from Pattern 1, but change how the envoy behaves so it feels more like a sharp, focused conclusion.

One option looks like this:

Stanzas (1–5): ababbccddedA
Envoy: ccdA

Same stanzas as Pattern 1, but the envoy is shorter and more concentrated.

How this envoy changes the mood

Imagine Noor is writing a chant royal about a legendary sea voyage. She uses:

a = tide
b = foam
c = star
d = deep
e = wind
A (refrain) = The sea remembers every ship we keep.

With a ccdA envoy:

The two c rhymes (linked to star) give the envoy a lifted, almost visionary feel
The d rhyme (deep) pulls it back to something darker or heavier
The refrain A then lands with all the weight of the previous stanzas behind it

It feels less like a new stanza and more like a closing chord on a piano: short, resonant, final.

Why a shorter envoy can be powerful

A long envoy can feel like one more mini‑stanza. A short envoy like ccdA feels more like a verdict. After five full stanzas of build‑up, that compact ending can:

Tighten the emotional focus
Leave a stronger aftertaste
Make the refrain feel like the only possible last line

If your poem is building toward a single, clear realization or punchline, this kind of envoy works really well.

How to keep your sanity while juggling all these rhymes

Looking at these patterns on the page can feel intimidating. In practice, there are a few tricks that make the whole thing much more manageable.

1. Choose flexible rhyme sounds

If you pick something like -orange to rhyme with, you’ll regret it instantly. Instead, go for endings with lots of options:

-ight (light, night, sight, flight, bright)
-ay (day, say, play, stay, away)
-een (seen, green, between, unseen)

You’re going to need a lot of variations, especially for the a and b rhymes that show up often.

2. Map the pattern before you write a word

Take a blank page and literally write down the letters for one stanza:

a b a b b c c d d e d A

Then, next to each letter, jot a possible rhyme word. You don’t have to stick to those exact words later, but it gives you a roadmap. It’s much easier to write when you can see, “Okay, this next line needs a c rhyme, something like glow or snow or below.”

3. Treat the refrain as your north star

The refrain line isn’t just a structural requirement; it’s the emotional core of your poem. Everything you say in the stanzas is basically circling around that one line.

Ask yourself:

What sentence could I repeat five or six times without it getting boring?
What line feels like a thesis for the whole poem?

Once you have a strong refrain, the rest of the poem becomes a series of variations on that idea.

4. Draft in layers

Nobody writes a perfect chant royal in one pass. A practical approach:

First pass: Just get the story or argument down in rough lines, not worrying too much about exact rhyme
Second pass: Sharpen the rhymes so they match the pattern
Third pass: Polish the rhythm and word choice

It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Even experienced poets have to wrestle with this form.

Quick comparison of the three patterns

To keep everything straight, here’s how the three approaches line up:

Pattern 1: ababbccddedA + envoy ddedA
- Feels balanced and traditional
- E rhyme sets up the refrain once per stanza
Pattern 2: ababbccddedeA + envoy ddedeA
- Slightly longer stanzas
- E rhyme appears more often, giving a more echoing, musical feel
Pattern 3: ababbccddedA + envoy ccdA
- Same stanza as Pattern 1
- Shorter, punchier envoy that feels like a final chord

You can mix and match within tradition a bit, but these three give you solid, historically grounded options to work from.

Can you bend the rules a little?

Modern poets do play with chant royal. Some:

Loosen the line count slightly
Shift the envoy pattern
Tweak the refrain wording from stanza to stanza

But if you’re learning the form, it’s worth trying it “straight” at least once. You’ll understand the logic of the rhymes much better, and then you can decide what you want to break.

If you’re curious about traditional verse forms in general, it’s helpful to look at broader poetry resources from universities and cultural organizations. Sites like the Poetry Foundation and Academy of American Poets offer form guides and examples. For a more academic perspective on French and European verse structures, you can sometimes find open course materials via places like Harvard University that touch on historical poetic forms.

FAQ about chant royal rhyme schemes

Is there only one “correct” chant royal rhyme scheme?

No. There are a few traditional patterns that show up repeatedly in historical sources, especially variants of the 11‑line and 12‑line stanza patterns. The three patterns in this guide are all grounded in those traditions. Different critics and handbooks sometimes list slightly different versions, but they all share the same core ideas: five rhyme sounds, repeated stanzas, and an envoy.

Does the refrain line have to be identical every time?

Traditionally, yes, it’s the same line each time. In practice, some poets allow tiny variations—changing a word or two for grammar or emphasis—while keeping the core phrase intact. If you’re aiming for a very traditional chant royal, keep it as close to identical as possible.

Can I change the rhyme sounds halfway through the poem?

No, not if you want to stay within the form. One of the defining features of chant royal is that the same set of rhyme sounds carries through all five stanzas and the envoy. Changing the rhymes halfway would turn it into something else.

Is chant royal only for “serious” topics?

Historically, it leaned that way—kings, saints, moral lessons. But you’re not living in the 15th century. You can absolutely write a chant royal about modern themes: social media, climate anxiety, a video game, a sports hero. The rhyme scheme doesn’t care what your topic is; it just wants you to stick to the pattern.

How long does it usually take to write one?

Longer than you think. Even experienced poets may spend days or weeks tinkering with a single chant royal. You’re balancing story, rhythm, rhyme, and repetition. If it feels slow, that’s normal. The form is demanding by design.

If you keep the three example patterns handy while you write, you’ll find that the structure starts to feel familiar. And once the pattern is in your bones, the chant royal stops being a monster and starts being a challenge you can actually enjoy.

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