Probably the best known example of this meter is Byron's "The Destruction of Sennacherib":
 

              *    *    / | *   *     /    |    *       *    /  |    *    *    /
            For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
            And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
            And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
            And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still!
 
 

Anne Bronte gives us a lively example; as is typical of anapestic lines, with much initial iambic substitution:

            MY soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring,
            And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
            For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring
            Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

            The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
            The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
            The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,
            The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.

Except for the last line of "A Forsaken Garden," Swinburne keeps his lines going in anapestic tetrameters. Naturally there is some substitution, especially in the first foot of each line, where he employs at times feet that would require unusual Greek names.

                        IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland,
                                 At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee,
                            Walled round with rocks as an inland island,
                                 The ghost of a garden fronts the sea.
                            A girdle of brushwood and thorn encloses
                                 The steep square slope of the blossomless bed
                            Where the weeds that grew green from the graves of its roses
                                      Now lie dead.

Anapestic lines have suggested to some poets the sound of a galloping horse, and Browning capitalized on this is "How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix."As always, many anapestic lines begin with iambic feet.

                         I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;  [ * / | * * / | * * / | * * /]
                            I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
                            ``Good speed!'' cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
                            ``Speed!'' echoed the wall to us galloping through;
                            Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
                            And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Browning's "Old Pictures in Florence," however, also uses heavily substituted anapestic tetrameter that is scarcely different from a rough iambic meter:

                         On the arch where olives overhead
                              Print the blue sky with twig and leaf,
                            (That sharp-curled leaf which they never shed)
                              'Twixt the aloes, I used to lean in chief,
                            And mark through the winter afternoons,
                              By a gift God grants me now and then,
                            In the mild decline of those suns like moons,
                              Who walked in Florence, besides her men.

And one more:

                   There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower,
                  There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree,
                  There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower,
                  And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.

                  And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles
                  On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray,
                  On the leaping waters and gay young isles;
                  Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away.
                                                --William Cullen Bryant