The secret of well-scansioned verse is this:
To hear each line like music in the ear
And yet to also hear it as 'twere prose.
The metre's like a shoe of certain form:
It yields not to a wrongly shapèd foot
But presses it into its tum-ti-tums.
The foot that fits the metre well, is thus
Enhanced by rhythm's clockwork-like progression.
But if the foot bears no resemblance to
The stressed and unstressed points along the line
Then like to bunioned club it will appear
When forced into a shoe however pretty.
The metre is the bezel, sense the stone
That fitted well together make a jewel
The versifier's craft combining them
Into a whole that's greater than its parts.