This is the third of three articles treating on the subject of scansion and meter in poetry. Here I talk about three concepts that I feel are essential to understanding some of the more subtle aspects of English prosody. First is the concept of missing or extra syllables in a line of poetry and the terms involved in identifying meters in relation; second is concept of influence that other lines within a stanza or poem have on identifying variations in meter that include such missing or extra syllables; third is the concept of combining related feet within a line of poetry and correctly identifying their meters.

Overview

In 2001 I became interested in prosody, which is the study of language as it relates to metrical composition. Since then I have learned a few things about meter that I’ve since incorporated into my scansion, some of which has become second nature. Scansion is the act of scanning lines of poetry and dividing them into metrical feet.

Books and articles on prosody can make the study of meter very confusing because so many different approaches and angles are taken on the subject. In some cases these angles are relatively simple and easy to grasp. Most of the time they are intolerably complex and befuddling. Then there’s the odd treatise that presents approaches that are just plain incompatible with one another. The main reason for all this confusion is that English prosody and all its terminology are derived entirely from ancient Greek prosody, which–structurally speaking–has very little in common with Modern English. So treatises on the subject essentially end up going to all lengths to fit square pegs into round holes. This makes it a challenge to glean anything truly useful when studying English prosody, but it can be done.

I take a practical approach. I don’t try to treat English like ancient Greek. English is a language with both qualitative (the accent or pitch of syllables) and quantitative (the length of syllables) elements while ancient Greek apparently is purely a quantitative language. In fact, the qualitative elements of English are so prominent that it is very rare to see its quantitative aspects recognized at all. Instead, I look at English as it is and only use those Greek terms and concepts that have some direct correlation to English prosody, which for all intents and purposes has never really been studied and described in its own right.

Over time this approach has allowed me to isolate specific elements of scansion that are actually relevant to English and sensibly apply them as I read and write poetry. What I talk about below are missing or extra syllables in a line of poetry, those terms from Greek prosody that can usefully be applied in relation, how the context of a stanza can change how you scan a line with missing or extra syllables, and the combining of related feet within a line of poetry to simplify the identification of meters.

My hope is that this information will give you a way to talk about lines of poetry that seem to evade identification and hence meaningful discussion.

Catalexis and Acephalexis (,cat el ‘lek sis) & (a ‘sef el ,lek sis)

Missing syllables—specifically those unaccented syllables missing from the end (catalexis) or the beginning (acephalexis) of a line.

Metrically speaking, catalexis and acephalexis are mirror images of one another. Such a line of poetry taken by itself independent of the stanzaic structure from which it came more naturally scans as catalectic (,cat el ‘lek tick) since the first syllable is accented. However, the overall structure of a stanza can shift perspective from catalexis to acephalexis.

First we’ll explore these concepts in a direct way along with some clarifying examples, then we’ll discuss them further and demonstrate how the structure of a stanza can determine whether your line is one or the other.

Catalexis

Trochaic or dactylic lines that have no unaccented syllables at the end are said to be catalectic. This means you can have a line of poetry that is trochaic and/or dactylic even though it ends with an accented syllable.

Here’s an example:

Silence falls in heavy waves

– . – . – . –

(Silence) (falls in) (heavy) (waves)

This is a catalectic trochaic tetrameter. You’ll notice that the line starts with a trochee and is followed by a predictable pattern of two more trochees to be capped by a single accented syllable. This last foot is said to be tailless trochee because it is considered a trochee that has its final unaccented syllable omitted.

Catalectic trochaic lines have a nice feel to them to my mind. They are more difficult to use intentionally than iambic lines because of the way syntax works in English, but I think they can be worth the time.

The following example demonstrates a similar effect with a line of dactyls:

Silence is all I have ever been shown

– . . – . . – . . –

(Silence is) (all I have) (ever been) (shown)

This is a catalectic dactylic tetrameter. Although the scheme is dactylic, the final foot is still considered a tailless trochee.

Acephalexis

Iambic or anapaestic lines that have no unaccented syllables at the beginning of the line are said to be acephalectic (a ‘sef el ,lek tick). This means you can have a line of poetry that is iambic and/or anapaestic even though it begins with an accented syllable.

I could actually use the exact same examples above to illustrate this, but doing so could increase confusion. So for now, let’s try:

Rivers merge converge and drift through time

– . – . – . – . –

(Riv)(ers merge) (converge) (and drift) (through time)

This is an acephalectic iambic pentameter. Of course you’ll notice right away that the first iamb is missing its unaccented syllable, making it a headless iamb. To scan this line as acephalectic rather than catalectic requires a shift in perspective from seeing trochees to seeing iambs. We’ll come back to this. But first, let’s look at a similar example involving anapaests:

Rivers emerge from a shimmering void into view

– . . – . . – . . – . . –

(Riv)(ers emerge) (from a shimm)(ering void) (into view)

This is an acephalectic anapaestic pentameter, an unusual thing. Although the scheme is anapaestic, the first foot is still considered a headless iamb. As with the previous example, scanning this line as acephalectic rather than catalectic requires a shift in perspective from seeing dactyls to seeing anapaests.

Lines such as these taken on their own will almost certainly be considered catalectic. This is because that first accented syllable cues the mind for trochees and/or anapaests. In fact, catalexis is the term used by academics, even to this day, to describe a line of poetry that leads and ends with an accented syllable—even if that line occurs in a sonnet otherwise comprised entirely of iambic pentameters.

By comparison, acephalexis is not a well-known term. It’s not even listed in the OED. It’s taken from the Greek roots “a” (not/without), “cephal” (head), and “lexis” (word/words/language) to give us a way of talking about lines that look catalectic and yet occur within a purely iambic and/or anapaestic framework. In short, the term evolved out of a desire to describe English prosody rather than proscribe Greek prosody onto it.

Shifting Perspective

So how do we decide if our line is catalectic or acephalectic? The answer is context. Context is everything when it comes to applying more advanced concepts of scansion. First, let’s look at a quatrain that contains one catalectic line using the first example above:

Time was terror to my spirit,

dreams destroyed by loss and malice.

Grief became my only solace—

Silence falls in heavy waves.

– . – . – . – .

– . – . – . – .

– . – . – . – .

– . – . – . –

(Time was) (terror) (to my) (spirit)

(dreams de)(stroyed by) (loss and) (malice)

(Grief be)(came my) (only) (solace)

(Silence) (falls in) (heavy) (waves)

Here three solid trochaic tetrameters are followed by a catalectic trochaic tetrameter. The pattern of trochees in the first three lines continues seamlessly though the fourth line to the last foot where the tailless trochee establishes the line as catalectic.

If it were the first, second or third line that was missing that last unaccented syllable, the preponderance of trochees throughout the stanza creates the same effect. In fact, assuming all other lines start and end with an accented syllable, it would only take a single purely trochaic line to establish the stanza as trochaic in nature, thus making the remaining three lines catalectic.

Now let’s look at another quatrain that includes the first acephalectic example above to see how the overall structure of a stanza can shift perspective from catalexis to acephalexis:

We condensate like drops of rain from dream

and coalesce into an entity

that shifts amid an ever changing realm—

Rivers merge, converge and drift through time.

. – . – . – . – . –

. – . – . – . – . –

. – . – . – . – . –

– . – . – . – . –

(We con)(densate) (like drops) (of rain) (from dream)

(and co)(alesce) (into) (an en)(tity)

(that shifts) (amid) (an ev)(er chang)(ing realm)

(Riv)(ers merge) (converge) (and drift) (through time)

Here the first three lines are iambic pentameters and the last is the acephalectic iambic pentameter illustrated above that leads with a headless iamb. Because the stanza contains mostly iambic lines, a line that begins and ends with an accented syllable will be acephalectic rather than catalectic.

It is beyond the purview of this article to explore more complex stanzaic structures. Truth is, as structured stanzas become more complex, it begins to make sense to define lines based on whether or not they lead with an accented syllable.

For instance, a stanza can alternate between iambic and trochaic lines, and this would actually be a stanza that contains both iambic and trochaic lines. In such a stanza, whether you decide to call a line that begins and ends with an accented syllable catalectic or acephalectic would become mostly a matter of preference, though for my part I would choose based on the overall pattern of the stanza and poem in question—i.e. the line occurs in a position occupied mostly by iambic or trochaic lines.

I don’t feel it is necessary to provide further examples using dactyls and anapaests, as the same applies.

Hypercatalexis and Anacrusis (‘hi per ,cat el ‘lek sis) & (,an uh ‘croos is)

Extra syllables—specifically those one or two extra unaccented syllables that occur at the end (hypercatalexis) or the beginning (anacrusis) of a line.

Hypercatalexis and anacrusis are also mirror images of one another, requiring a shift in perspective to see a line as being either hypercatalectic (‘hi per ,cat el ‘lek tick) or anacrustic (,an uh ‘crust ick). Again, this shift in perspective is influenced by the overall structure of the stanza and poem as a whole.

First we’ll explore these concepts in a direct way along with some clarifying examples, then we’ll discuss them further and demonstrate how the structure of a stanza can determine whether your line is one or the other.

Hypercatalexis

Iambic or anapaestic lines that contain one or two unaccented syllable at the end, called hanging syllables, are said to be hypercatalectic. The use of this term and concept allows for a way to talk about lines of poetry which are iambic and/or anapaestic and seem to have this mysterious trochee or dactyl at the end. Those are not trochees or dactyls; those are hanging syllables, and they are counted as part of the final foot.

Here’s an example:

How hard it is to hope through all this sorrow!

. – . – . – . – . – .

(How hard) (it is) (to hope) (through all) (this sorrow)

This is a hypercatalectic iambic pentameter. You’ll see there is one hanging syllable at the end that doesn’t seem to fit within the scheme of an iambic line. Technically that final foot is called an amphibrach, which in Greek prosody is a long (accented) syllable between two short (unaccented) syllables. But I’ve also heard this referred to as a short-tailed iamb, the short tail being the one hanging syllable. For my part I prefer the latter term because it helps keep focus on the line type, which is iambic. Identifying line types is the focus of the third part of this article below.

Now let’s expand the concept of hypercatalexis to a line of anapaests:

If you think you are lost then you’re not being sensible

. . – . . – . . – . . – . .

(If you think) (you are lost) (then you’re not) (being sensible)

This is a hypercatalectic anapaestic tetrameter. Here you’ll see that there are two hanging syllables at the end, giving the last foot a total of five syllables. To the best of my knowledge no such foot is defined in Greek prosody, so the presence of this five syllable foot is a feature unique to English prosody. We defined the short-tailed iamb in discussing the previous example, so let’s take that extra syllable and call this a long-tailed anapaest.

Here’s another line of anapaests, this time with a single hanging syllable:

I believe you’re the one who has stolen the grain from the storehouse

. . – . . – . . – . . – . . – .

(I believe) (you’re the one) (who has stol)(en the grain) (from the storehouse)

This is a hypercatalectic anapaestic pentameter, a rare thing indeed. Since there’s only a single hanging syllable, we can call that last foot a short-tailed anapaest. For the inquisitive mind, the technical term for this foot is tertius paeon. But I much prefer the short- and long-tailed designations as they more aptly express the prosodic structure and flow of English.

There’s one more example to cover, which can be tricky to talk about:

If you think we are doomed then you’re just not sensible

. . – . . – . . – . – . .

(If you think) (we are doomed) (then you’re just) (not sensible)

Okay, so this variation on the previous example is a hypercatalectic anapaestic-iambic tetrameter. The one iamb in the line is at the end, and it is followed by two hanging syllables. In keeping with classical prosody, we could call that last foot a secundus paeon, but I prefer to go with long-tailed iamb.

Further discussion is warranted where this last example is concerned. English prosody is incredibly dynamic and open to multiple points of perspective. I used a line of mostly anapaests to exemplify the long-tailed iamb because if it were a line of iambs the force of all those iambs would cause the final syllable to take on an accent, extending the meter by another iambic foot. Just see for yourself:

If we are doomed then think of something sensible

. – . – . – . – . – . –

(If we) (are doomed) (then think) (of some)(thing sens)(ible)

This is very much an iambic hexameter, covered in the first article of this series. For most people, the force of accents at regular iambic intervals will make it impossible to end a line with a long-tailed iamb, causing that final syllable to become accented enough to count as another iamb. The only way a line of poetry can close with a long-tailed iamb is if there are enough anapaests present to establish a pattern (and hence the expectation) of unaccented syllables occurring in pairs.

Anacrusis

Trochaic or dactylic lines that begin with an extra unaccented syllable are said to be anacrustic. The use of this term and concept allows for a way to talk about lines of poetry that are trochaic and/or dactylic, yet begin with this inexplicable extra syllable.

Because anacrusis can be the mirror image of hypercatalexis, I could use the previous examples to illustrate this concept as well. But for the sake of avoiding unnecessary confusion, I’ll introduce fresh examples. Let’s start with a line of trochees:

Like mists between the trees dissolve to growing daylight

. – . – . – . – . – . – .

(Like mists be)(tween the) (trees dis)(solve to) (growing) (daylight)

This is an anacrustic trochaic hexameter. Here you’ll see there’s an extra unaccented syllable at the front of the line with the word “like.” There are no terms specific to English prosody such as the short- and long-tailed iamb and anapaest discussed above that are currently used to talk about trochees or dactyls that contain a leading unaccented syllable. So for the time being, we must refer to that first foot as an amphibrach. To scan this line as anacrustic rather than hypercatalectic requires a shift in perspective from seeing iambs to seeing trochees. We’ll come back to this. But first, let’s look at a similar example involving dactyls:

Where breezes blow ancient primordial melodies

. – . . – . . – . . – . .

(Where breezes blow) (ancient pri)(mordial) (melodies)

This is an anacrustic dactylic tetrameter. Again, since there are no terms specific to English prosody that let us talk about that first foot in relation to dactyls, we’ll have to call that first foot a secundus paeon. At some point such feet should be identifiable in relation to their association with a line of trochees and/or dactyls, but for now we’re stuck with “amphibrach” and “secundus paeon.”

So far as I can tell, a line of trochees and/or dactyls cannot lead with two unaccented syllables. This is because in English, the first syllable wants to be accented when followed by an obviously unaccented syllable. I suppose I should exemplify this effect. Let’s make one small modification to the previous example:

Where the breezes blow ancient primordial melodies

– . – . . – . . – . . – . .

(Where the) (breezes blow) (ancient pri)(mordial) (melodies)

By simply following the word “where” with “the,” the former takes on an accent, adding a trochaic foot the the front of the line, making it now a dactylic-trochaic pentameter. Even the force of several previous tetrameters would not be enough to suppress this effect. So, this is why I’m not providing examples for trochaic or dactylic lines that lead with two unaccented syllables. It just doesn’t work this way in English.

Shifting Perspective

It makes sense to exemplify the shifting of perspective between hypercatalexis and anacrusis in the same way we did for catalexis and acephalexis above. Let’s start with a quatrain containing a hypercatalectic line using the first example above:

I am a dreamer in a dreamless realm

where aspirations fade away like mist,

chagrin an ever present agony.

How hard it is to hope through all this sorrow!

. – . – . – . – . –

. – . – . – . – . –

. – . – . – . – . –

. – . – . – . – . – .

(I am) (a dream)(er in) (a dream)(less realm)

(where as)(pira)(tions fade) (away) (like mist)

(chagrin) (an ev)(er pre)(sent a)(gony).

(How hard) (it is) (to hope) (through all) (this sorrow)

Here three solid iambic pentameters are followed by a hypercatalectic iambic pentameter. The pattern of iambs in the first three lines continues seamlessly though the fourth line to the last foot where the short-tailed iamb establishes the line as hypercatalectic.

If it were any other line containing that extra unaccented syllable at the end, the preponderance of iambs throughout the stanza creates the same effect. In fact, even if all of the lines contained that unaccented syllable at the end (also called a feminine ending), the lines would still be hypercatalectic because every line leads with a pattern of iambs.

It’s only when you have what looks like an iambic and/or anapaestic deviation from a clear pattern of trochees and/or dactyls that perspective shifts from hypercatalexis to anacrusis. Let’s have a look at such a stanza now that includes the first anacrustic example above:

Countless aspirations vanish through the seasons.

Years meander by in absence of creation.

Dreams of what could be evaporate in silence

like mists between the trees dissolve to growing daylight

– . – . – . – . – . – .

– . – . – . – . – . – .

– . – . – . – . – . – .

. – . – . – . – . – . – .

(Countless) (aspi)(rations) (vanish) (through the) (seasons)

(Years me)(ander) (by in) (absence) (of cre)(ation).

(Dreams of) (what could) (be e)(vapo)(rate in) (silence)

(like mists be)(tween the) (trees dis)(solve to) (growing) (daylight)

Here three solid trochaic hexameters are followed by an anacrustic trochaic hexameter. Because the line with the extra unaccented syllable is in a stanza comprised of trochees, perspective shifts from hypercatalexis to anacrusis.

The idea is to be able to talk about the meter of a line in relation to the meters that surround it. If the overall structure of a poem is iambic and/or anapaestic, then a line beginning and ending with an accented syllable will be acephalectic. Inversely, if the overall structure of a poem is trochaic and/or dactylic, then a line beginning and ending with unaccented syllables will be anacrustic. Otherwise, such lines will usually be catalectic and hypercatalectic, respectively.

This brings us now to the final portion of this article, keeping related feet together.

Combining Related Feet

Feet like the other walk together. If there are extra unaccented syllables in a largely iambic line, then you probably have some anapaests mixed in; likewise, if you have a few extra syllables in a mostly trochaic line, then you probably have some dactyls in your line. It is a good idea to think of anapaests as walking with iambs, and dactyls as walking with trochees.

The English language naturally makes free use of anapaests and dactyls. No one I have so far met speaks strictly in iambs and trochees, or two syllable feet. Syntactically, words just fall together in ways that come out as combinations of iambs and anapaests or trochees and dactyls.

Here is an example of a line that combines trochees and dactyls, taken from the first line of Robert Service’s “The Atavist“:

What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o’ the world,

– . . – . – . – . . – . – . . –

(What are you) (doing) (here Tom) (Thorne, on the) (white top-)(knot o’ the) (world)

This is a catalectic trochaic-dactylic heptameter. There may be some who would scan this differently, but few would disagree that this is a heptameter. The idea is to be able to talk about what you yourself are scanning and to be able to communicate this well.

Assuming you are willing to agree with this scansion, this is a trochaic-dactylic heptameter as opposed to a dactylic-trochaic heptameter because there are more trochees than there are dactyls. Remember that the final foot of a catalectic line is considered a tailless trochee, a trochee that doesn’t have its tailing unaccented syllable. I’ll expand on this further, but first I would like to exemplify a line that combines iambs and anapaests.

Here is an example of a line that combines iambs and anapaests, taken from the second line of the same poem:

Where the wind has the cut of a naked knife and the stars are rapier keen?

. . – . . – . . – . – . . – . – . –

(Where the wind) (has the cut) (of a nak)(ed knife) (and the stars) (are rap)(ier keen)

This is an anapaestic-iambic heptameter. The reason I put “anapaestic” first in this designation is that there are more anapaests in this line than there are iambs. Depending on which feet are predominant in a line of poetry, I will refer to the line that combines iambs and anapaests as either iambic-anapaestic or anapaestic-iambic. For the same reason, I will refer to the line that combines trochees and dactyls as either trochaic-dactylic or dactylic-trochaic.

To be clear, when a line has more iambs than anapaests, it is an iambic-anapaestic line. When it has more anapaests than iambs, it is an anapaestic-iambic line. The same holds for lines that combine trochees and dactyls. When a line has more trochees than dactyls, it is a trochaic-dactylic line. When it has more dactyls than trochees, it is a dactylic-trochaic line.

Ties, however, have to be broken in some way, and I use the final foot of a line to accomplish this. So, when there is a tie between iambs and anapaests or trochees and dactyls, I’ll break the tie in favor of the type of foot closes the line.

For instance, here is a line that combines an even number of iambs and anapaests:

A darkness has crept across the high clouds

. – . . – . – . . –

(A dark)(ness has crept) (across) (the high clouds)

This is an anapaestic-iambic tetrameter because the tie between the two anapaests and two iambs is broken using the final foot of the line, which is an anapaest. I break the tie using the final foot rather than the first foot because the meter of a line tends to be established more by the type of feet that close the line than by the type of feet within the line.

Here’s another example using a line that combines trochees and dactyls:

Pleas were lost in the roaring tempest that raged on thundering

– . – . . – . – . . – . – . .

(Pleas were) (lost in the) (roaring) (tempest that) (raged on) (thundering)

This is a dactylic-trochaic hexameter because the tie between the three dactyls and three trochees is broken using the final foot, which is a dactyl.

I think these examples get the point across. Again, and I can’t stress this enough, the point of this article is not to tell you how to scan lines of poetry so much as to teach you how to talk about what you do scan and to offer guidelines that I think could help simplify that scansion.

Toward this end I’ve explained and exemplified lines that begin and end with an accented syllable, lines that begin and end with an unaccented syllable, circumstances that can shift perspective relative to the structure of the stanza and/or poem, and the combining of related feet. As I’ve done so I’ve introduced and defined terms that will allow you to talk intelligently about these variations in metrical composition.

If you have any thoughts, please feel free to leave them in the comments. I’m always looking to deepen and expand my understanding of English prosody.

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