One example of Emerson will suffice.
Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, Or dip thy paddle in the lake, But it carves the bow of beauty there, And the ripples in rhyme the oar forsake.
The form is atrociously bad; but the reflection is grand--it is another way of expressing the beautiful old Greek thought that "God _geometrizes_ everywhere"-- that is, that all motion is in geometrical lines, and full of beauty.

You can pick hundreds of fine things in very short verse out of Emerson, but the verse is nearly always shapeless; the composition of the man invariably makes us think of diamonds in the rough, jewels uncut.

So far as form goes a much better master of quatrain is the American poet Aldrich, who wrote the following little thing, entitled "Popularity." Such kings of shreds have wooed and won her, Such crafty knaves her laurel owned, It has become almost an honour Not to be crowned.
This is good verse.

The reference to "a king of shreds and patches"-- that is, a beggar king--you will recognize as Shakespearean.

But although this pretty verse has in it more philosophy than satire, it approaches the satiric class of epigrams.