Since Greg asks:

Hotspur: I’d rather be a kitten and cry mew
than one of these same-meter ballet-mongers.
I’d rather hear a brazen canstick turned,
or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree—
and that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
nothing so much as mincing poetry.
’Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

—Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I

(I’m being lazy, I know.)