A quatrain is a type of stanza, or a complete poem, made up of four lines.

Quatrains can be found in many forms and have been used in poems from the poetic traditions of ancient civilizations such as Persia, Ancient India, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, and China. They are still used today in poems written in many languages.

This form of poetry has been very popular in Iran since the medieval period, especially in a style called Ruba'is. This style is an important part of Persian poetry, and well-known poets like Omar Khayyam and Mahsati Ganjavi of Seljuk Persia wrote only in this format.

Michel de Nostredame (Nostradamus) used the quatrain form to write his famous "prophecies" in the 16th century.

There are 15 possible rhyme patterns, but the most traditional and common are ABAA, AA AA, ABAB, and ABBA.

Forms

Here is an example from Thomas Gray's poem "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard."

The curfew sounds the signal of the day ending, The herd of cows moves slowly across the field, The farmer walks home, tired from his work, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Here is an example from Robert Burns's poem "A Red, Red Rose."

O, my love is like a red, red rose, That has just bloomed in June; O, my love is like a melody That is played beautifully.

Here is an example from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem "In Memoriam A.H.H."

So word by word, and line by line, The dead man touched me from the past, And suddenly it seemed at last The living soul was shown to me.

Here is an example from William Blake's poem "The Tyger." (These are the first and last stanzas of the poem)

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could create your amazing symmetry? … Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare create your amazing symmetry.

Here is an example from the poem "La Belle Dame sans Merci" by John Keats.

I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee has in thrall!’

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has only a little way To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.