(part 1)
   The fate of syllabism in the
poetry of English has been a Quixotic one. Isolated
names--Bridges, Dylan Thomas, Auden, Marianne
Moore--each has created an inimitable style, without
any of them leaving a useful general mode for others
to follow. After them syllabism more or less evaporates
--Plath is considered a free-verse poet, Hollander a
traditional formalist; present-day literary politics
hardly even finds a name for this aberration, much
less a place for it on their crabbed maps. But i think
it is more suited to the present state of our language
than either quantitative or accentual prosodies, for
the excellent reason that both vowel quantity &
accent are now in flux, & probably will render the
future reception of such works the exact equivalent
of the generations after Chaucer that didn't know how
to sound his lines.
   Secondly, i think adding counting
to poetry is an important means of engaging both
hemispheres of the brain for creativity--but this
is a much vaster topic than i will go into here. What
would make syllabism a truly constructive force
in our poetry (aside from a recognizably great
exemplar, of course--)? There need to be further
rules, varyingly exacting, & seen to be appropriate
for the things we are trying to say.
   Perhaps at some point i will
upload the essay i wrote for Hellas on my own
proposals i called "neoprosody", based on (briefly)
odd-number counts & various combinations of
long-short couplets. I see this as connecting to
what has already become a naturalized tradition
of writing haiku & tanka in our language. There
are several world literatures, in fact, worth
studying in this regard; the most promising, in
my view, being Welsh.
   Hopkins & Thomas both imitated some
of its effects, notably the complex consonance
called cynghanedd, but it was Rolfe Humphries (known
today as a translator), in Green Armor on Green Ground,
who really adapted the complete verseforms & managed to
write passable poems in them. (It is curious how technical
tomes of prosody now give definitions for englynion &
cywydd in so many words, but you can look far & wide &
never come across an actual example...)

   "For a Wordfarer (Englyn Unodl Crwca)

Speak them slowly, space them so:
Say them soft, or sing them low;
Words whose way we may not know any more.
Still, before the days go,

Sing them low, or say them soft.
Such a little while is left
To counterpoint the soundless drift of Time,
Let rhyming fall and lift.

Space them so, with lift and fall
Decent in their interval,
Late, archaic, who could say?--but always
Graceful, musical."

--Humphries

All the same, i would say that only three, relatively
free imitations, are really successful as poems: the
justly-celebrated "The Sunlight on the Garden" by Louis
MacNeice, 'There are some birds in these valleys'
by W H Auden,