What Is Ballad? Definition And Examples Of This Form Of Poetry
BALLAD – In this topic, we are going to know and learn about a form of poetry called ballad and some of its examples.
It is a form of verse and are usually a narrative set to music. It is derived from the medieval French chanson balladée or ballade, which were originally “dance songs”.
Grinell College says that it has strong associations with childhood since most children’s poetry comes in this form. This form emphasize strong rhythms, repetition of key phrases, and rhymes.
Characteristics
Some characteristics of this form include the following:
- Simple language
- older traditional ones were made for audiences of non-specialist hearers or readers. These feature language that people can understand without specialist training or repeated readings.
- Stories
- they are usually narrative poems or those that tell stories.
- Stanzas
- It consists of four lines and are rhymed ABCB or ABAB. The first and third lines have four stresses while the second and fourth have three
- Repetition
- This form usually has a refrain which is a repeated section that divides segments of the story. It also employs incremental repetition where a phrase recurs with minor differences as the story progresses.
- Dialogue
- It usually incorporate multiple characters into their stories.
- Third-person objective narration
- Narrators of this form usually speak in third person.
Examples
Here are some of the examples:
Barbara Allen by Anonymous
In Scarlet town, where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin’,
Made every youth cry Well-a-way!
Her name was Barbara Allen.
All in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin’,
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his man in to her then,
To the town where she was dwellin’;
“O haste and come to my master dear,
If your name be Barbara Allen.”
So slowly, slowly rase she up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And when she drew the curtain by—
“Young man, I think you’re dyin’.”
“O it’s I am sick and very very sick,
And it’s all for Barbara Allen.”—
O the better for me ye’se never be,
Tho’ your heart’s blood were a-spillin’!
“O dinna ye mind, young man,” says she,
“When the red wine ye were fillin’,
That ye made the healths go round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allen?”
He turned his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealin’:
“Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allen!”
As she was walking o’er the fields,
She heard the dead-bell knellin’;
And every jow the dead-bell gave
Cried “Woe to Barbara Allen.”
“O mother, mother, make my bed,
O make it saft and narrow:
My love has died for me today,
I’ll die for him tomorrow.”
“Farewell,” she said, “ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in:
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barbara Allen.”
John Henry by Anonymous
When John Henry was a little tiny baby
Sitting on his mama’s knee,
He picked up a hammer and a little piece of steel
Saying, “Hammer’s going to be the death of me, Lord, Lord,
Hammer’s going to be the death of me.”
John Henry was a man just six feet high,
Nearly two feet and a half across his breast.
He’d hammer with a nine-pound hammer all day
And never get tired and want to rest, Lord, Lord,
And never get tired and want to rest.
John Henry went up on the mountain
And he looked one eye straight up its side.
The mountain was so tall and John Henry was so small,
He laid down his hammer and he cried, “Lord, Lord,”
He laid down his hammer and he cried.
John Henry said to his captain,
“Captain, you go to town,
Bring me back a TWELVE-pound hammer, please,
And I’ll beat that steam drill down, Lord, Lord,
I’ll beat that steam drill down.”
The captain said to John Henry,
“I believe this mountain’s sinking in.”
But John Henry said, “Captain, just you stand aside–
It’s nothing but my hammer catching wind, Lord, Lord,
It’s nothing but my hammer catching wind.”
John Henry said to his shaker,
“Shaker, boy, you better start to pray,
‘Cause if my TWELVE-pound hammer miss that little piece of steel,
Tomorrow’ll be your burying day, Lord, Lord,
Tomorrow’ll be your burying day.”
John Henry said to his captain,
“A man is nothing but a man,
But before I let your steam drill beat me down,
I’d die with a hammer in my hand, Lord, Lord,
I’d die with a hammer in my hand.”
The man that invented the steam drill,
He figured he was mighty high and fine,
But John Henry sunk the steel down fourteen feet
While the steam drill only made nine, Lord, Lord,
The steam drill only made nine.
John Henry hammered on the right-hand side.
Steam drill kept driving on the left.
John Henry beat that steam drill down.
But he hammered his poor heart to death, Lord, Lord,
He hammered his poor heart to death.
Well, they carried John Henry down the tunnel
And they laid his body in the sand.
Now every woman riding on a C and O train
Says, “There lies my steel-driving man, Lord, Lord,
There lies my steel-driving man.”
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