Internal Rhyme | Examples of Internal Rhyme Poems and Lyrics

I’m alone, on my own, and that’s all I know
I’ll be strong, I’ll be wrong, oh but life goes on
I’m just a girl, trying to find a place in
This world

Dont Stop Believin

Journey

lyrics

Just a small town girl living in a lonely world
She took the midnight train going anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere
A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume

For a smile they can share the night, it goes on, and on, and on, and on…
Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlight people living just to find emotion

Hiding somewhere in the night
Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill
Paying anything to roll the dice just one more time
Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends, it goes on and on, and on, and on…

(prechorus)
Strangers waiting up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlight people living just to find emotion
Hiding somewhere in the night

(chorus – aaa)
Don’t stop believin’, hold on to the feelin’, streetlight people
Don’t stop believin’, hold on to the feelin’, streetlight people
Don’t stop believin’, hold on to the feelin’, streetlight people

Everything’s Beautiful

Dolly Parton and Willy Nelson

lyrics

Songwriter: Dolly Parton

When I look out over a green field of clover
Or watch the sun set at the end of the day
I get kind of moody when I see such beauty
And everything’s beautiful in its own way
When I see a fountain flow from a mountain
Or see April showers bring flowers to May
I can’t help but ponder; life is such a wonder
And everything’s beautiful in its own way

Words can’t describe what I feel inside
When I see the beauty in each coming day
What my eyes behold can’t be bought or sold
And everything’s beautiful in its own way

When I see the clouds form a black summer windstorm
That uproots the harvest and hurls it away
In the midst of such anger, destruction and danger
The storm’s even beautiful in its own way

When I see leaves drop off from the treetop
Or see the snow fall on a cold winter’s day
My thoughts seem to wander into the blue yonder
God made all things beautiful in their own way

Words can’t describe what I feel inside
When I see the beauty in each coming day
What my eyes behold can’t be bought or sold
And everything’s beautiful in its own way, in its own way, in its own way

The Cloud

Percy Bysshe Shelley

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud

Whiles all the night through fog-smoke white

The Chimney Sweeper

William Blake

So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

Anecdote of the Jar

Wallace Stevens

The jar was round upon the ground

How Do I Love Thee

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

New on Nana’s Corner! Internal Rhyme: Internal Rhyme Examples in Children’s Poems

The Raven

Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door –
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you” – here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what whereat is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door –
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “are sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door –
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered – not a feather then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never – nevermore.’”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloting o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee – by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! –
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by Horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting –
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore!”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!