Meter and Foot

But I am done with apple-picking now.

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

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Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, / That host with their banners at sunset were seen:

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Just for a handful of silver he left us,

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Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland / In such an honour named.

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Tyger!  Tyger!  Burning bright / In the forests of the night

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I must finish my journey alone

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Leaped like the roe when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?

• iambic
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Tell me not in mournful numbers

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Higgledy piggledy, / Bacon, lord Chancellor.

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• dactylic