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The fourth and final permutation is of unstressed units 
and is called the PYRRHIC foot. Don’t bother to think about the pyrrhic either for the moment, we’ll be looking at it later. All the feet possible in English are gathered in a table at the end of the chapter, with examples to demonstrate their stresses.
The iamb is the hero of this chapter, so let us take a closer look at it:
Ten syllables, yes, but a count, or measure, of five feet, five iambic feet, culminating (the opposite of the trochaic line) in a strong or accented ending. SAY IT OUT LOUD AGAIN:and one and two and three and four and fiveHe bangs the drum and makes a dreadful noise
It is a measure of five and the prosodic word, from the Greek again, for ‘measure of five’ is PENTAMETER. That simple line is an example therefore of IAMBIC PENTAMETER.
The Iambic Pentameter
The rising rhythm of the five-beat iambic pentameter has been since the fourteenth century the most widely used metre in English poetry. Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, Spenser’s Faerie Queen, Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets, Milton’s Paradise Lost, the preponderance of verse by Dryden, Pope, Wordsworth, Keats, Browning, Tennyson, Owen, Yeats and Frost, all written in iambic pentameter. It is the very breath of English verse and has earned the title the HEROIC LINE.
Poetry Exercise 1
Try reading the following extracts out loud to yourself, noting the varying pulses, some strong and regularly accented, others gentler and more flowing. Each pair of lines is an example of ‘perfect’ iambic pentameter, having exactly ten syllables, five iambic feet (five stresses on the even-numbered beats) to the line. Once you’ve read each pair a few times, TAKE A PENCIL AND MARK UP EACH FOOT. Use a or a / for the accented syllables or words and a or a–for the un accented syllables or word. I have double-spaced each pair to make it easier for you to mark them.
I really would urge you to take time over these: savour every line. Remember GOLDEN RULE ONE–reading verse can be like eating chocolate, so much more pleasurable when you allow it slowly to melt inside you, so much less rewarding when you snap off big chunks and bolt them whole, all but untasted.
DON’T LET YOUR EYE FALL FURTHER DOWN THE PAGE THAN THIS LINE until you have taken out your pencil or pen. You may prefer a pencil so that you can rub out your marks and leave this book in pristine condition when you lend it to someone else–naturally the publishers would prefer you to buy another copy for your friends–the important thing is to get used to defacing this book in one way or another. Here are the rules of the exercise again:
Read each pair of lines out loud, noting the ti-tum rhythms.
Now MARK the weak/strong (accented/unaccented) syllables and the ‘bar lines’ that separate each foot in this manner:
Or you may find it easier with a pencil to do it like this:
When you have done this, read each pair of lines OUT LOUD once more, exaggerating the stresses on each beat.He sit hym up withouten wordes mo,And with his ax he smoot the corde atwo,4
CHAUCER: The Canterbury Tales, The Reeve’s TaleThat time of year, thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
SHAKESPEARE: Sonnet 73In sooth I know not why I am so sad:It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
SHAKESPEARE: The Merchant of Venice, Act I, Scene 1Their wand’ring course, now high, now low, then hidProgressive, retrograde, or standing still
MILTON: Paradise Lost, Book VIIIOft has our poet wisht, this happy SeatMight prove his fading Muse’s last retreat.
DRYDEN: ‘Epilogue to Oxford’And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason’s spite,One truth is clear, ‘Whatever is, is right.’
POPE: An Essay on Man, Epistle 1And thus they formed a group that’s quite antique,Half naked, loving, natural, and Greek.
BYRON: Don Juan, Canto II, CXCIVNow fades the glimm’ring landscape on the sightAnd all the air a solemn stillness holds.
GRAY: ‘Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard’And certain hopes are with me, that to theeThis labour will be welcome, honoured Friend!
WORDSWORTH: The Prelude, Book OneSt Agnes’ Eve–Ah, bitter chill it was!The owl for all his feathers was a-cold;
KEATS: ‘The Eve of St Agnes’The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,The vapours weep their burthen to the ground
TENNYSON: ‘Tithonus’If you could hear, at every jolt, the bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
WILFRED OWEN: ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’When you are old and grey and full of sleepAnd nodding by the fire, take down this book
