Water, water everywhere Nor any drop to drink. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.

Ere I was old? Ah woeful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet,
'Tis known that Thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit — It cannot be that Thou art gone!

Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks.