Here is another sonnet ending in a couplet, which I quote for several reasons. In the first place, the poet, while using the couplet, has avoided the dangers of the epigram. In the second place, he comes as close to writing a narrative as the sonneteer may safely do. In the third place he deviates from the strict rules of the sonnet in one important particular, which should be at once apparent to every student of the subject. I do not refer to the false rhyme of "Africa" and "bar"--the deviation which I mean refers only to the sonnet form, and has to do with the arrangement of the thought. BOOKRA BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER One night I lay asleep in Africa, In a closed garden by the city gate; A desert horseman, furious and late, Came wildly thundering at the massive bar, "Open in Allah's name! Wake, Mustapha! Slain is the Sultan,--treason, war, and hate Rage from Fez to Tetuan! Open straight." The watchman heard as thunder from afar: "Go to! in peace this city lies asleep; To all-knowing Allah 'tis no news you bring"; Then turned in slumber still his watch to keep. At once a nightingale began to sing, In oriental calm the garden lay,-- Panic and war postponed another day. The deviation to which I refer is the lack of absolute distinction between the octave and the sestet. If the rules of the sonnet were strictly followed, the line which introduces the watchman would begin the sestet instead of closing the octave. The best form of the Petrarchan sonnet for the novice in versification to use in practice is the form I first described, that in which the rhyme scheme is _a, b, b, a, a, b, b, a, c, d, c, d, c, d_. But if you find that this at first presents insurmountable difficulty, use three rhymes in the sestet instead of two, as in the two poems following. In these, you will see, the rhyme scheme of the sestet is _c, d, e, c, d, e_. The first is a deeply introspective study by one of the greatest women poets of our generation; the second is more true to the traditional type of sonnet in thought, giving the subject in the octave, and the lesson drawn therefrom in the sestet. It is the work of a young American poet whose name is familiar to every reader of American magazines. RENOUNCEMENT BY ALICE MEYNELL I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong, I shun the love that lurks in all delight-- The love of thee--and in the blue heaven's height, And in the dearest passage of a song. Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden yet bright; But it must never, never come in sight; I must stop short of thee the whole day long. But when sleep comes to close each difficult day, When night gives pause to the long watch I keep, And all my bonds I need must lay apart, Must doff my will as raiment laid away,-- With the first dream that comes with the first sleep I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart.