1946, Royal Murdoch, Gargantua's Mouth, The Fine Editions Press (1946), page 105:
A Pyramus of surgent stride
With sword aclang upon his side
1953, May Davies Martenet, Taw Jameson, Alfred A. Knopf (1953), page 143:
His rumpled clothes were streaked with soot from the day-coach of the Richmond train that could be heard now, bell aclang, grinding away from the southbound side of the depot.
1960, John Barth, The Sot-Weed Factor, Universal Library (1970), page 13:
In the last years of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point.
1981, The Coevolution Quarterly, Issues 26-32, page 22:
Like a dance duo they stepped apart and snapped up the chunks of blue steel slung from the shoulder and all at once the corridor was aclang with noise.