The Singing Season

The Dunciamb

That verse as much as theme would poetry stain,
old Pope might just as well have made it plain
the proper subject of 'di-Dah' is 'Dah',
that iambs and iambs and iambs would dull a star,
as 'proper study of Mankind is Man'
(there wrath of women stir - that's what he can).

The little iamb a gambol through our land
did make most poets muttonheads so bland;
that 'sleep devour poor men', iambic pairs
in wolfish clothes declaim upon the stairs.
O, little iamb thy tedious, jumping play
the attent flowers trample quite away.

For though, when dotted over hills and dales,
such harmless iambs on fences hang their tails,
yet in such hordes would scare off Mongol horse;
their trods are highways which shall take their course;
woe let a dactyl, trochee, spondee by
for purity will raise a mocking eye:

'Such poultry is for scratters in the dust
for balladeers and country folk who must,
but not for drawing rooms nor gentlemen
who need to catch up sleep. Ask not. Ahem!
For titillation proper verse provokes
(to cover zzzs) not guffaws at rude jokes.

Let rustic folks ape badly what we do;
we'll have them here to be part of our zoo.
They do not know the nurture of the iamb,
but iambic butchery and country ham;
and when we've had our fill of merriment
and of our bad-taste, slumming it, relent,

we'll turn back to our bleats of wisdom rare,
while gouty prince snores gently in bath-chair.'

......................

This eighteenth century styled verse,  written in the form of couplets of iambic pentameter is a satire on the tyranny of the 'iamb' (di-Dah) and iambic verse.

I am playing on the words iamb and lamb sounding similar. In earlier centuries (than the 18th) there were protests at enclosures by the big landowners taking land from commoners (which was their living) to graze flocks of sheep for the early clothing industry. There were posters (woodcuts etc) of sheep devouring men.

People count sheep to sleep and the iambic verse bores after a while unless it is very skillfully done. In all fairness, Pope was pretty good at it.

Dactyl is galloping. Anapest, in the dirt. Trochee booming, spondee, both barrels.

Rustic poets, of  great talent and veracity,  like John Clare, were feted for a while by gentlemen from the city then left to rot again.