Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
The eighteenth century found it an effective comedic rhythm, as in Goldsmith’s:
When they talked of their Raphaels, Correggios and stuff,
He shifted his trumpet and only took snuff.
But it was Shelley who first successfully slowed down triple time, and gave it dignity and variety, as in his Sensitive Plant:
And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose,
The sweetest flower for scent that blows;
And all rare blossoms from every clime
Grew in that garden in perfect prime.