In this article, the writer explains a movement, the argument it causes, and both sides of the argument, which I think is helpful. It would have been easy to simply say "They don't like it because it's not familiar to them," (although that aspect of it is addressed) but the writer goes beyond that. The writer states that it is opposed because it strips subjects such as philosophy, theology and ethics away from the study of literature, leaving the person studying it with nothing more than the paper in front of them. I believe the advocates of philology would argue that that's how it should be done, because they aren't studying philosophy, theology, or ethics; they're studying literature. They might argue that studying literature to find philosophy, theology and ethics would be ignoring the language, plot, and characters that the author put so much effort into developing. Of course, many pieces of literature are a product of their time, as well as the author's viewpoints, so I find it hard to believe that one can examine a writer's work without at least snatching hints of those things. Perhaps those that emphasize philology do, but simply choose to ignore them in favor of pure literature? In any case, it's easy to see why these two approaches conflict with each other.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary (https://www-oed-com.libproxy.clemson.edu/view/Entry/151933?rskey=sSD0gT&result=4#eid): "To poke, dig, or jab with a finger, foot, or other pointed object."

I think the usage of the word "prod" here is telling about the father's mindset. Rather than suggesting a precision or well-honed method, the word "prod" comes across as haphazard, as though he does not really know what he is doing. Clearly, he wants to be helping, and he wants to be doing something, but as the narrator notes later in the paragraph, he is "probably doing more harm than good." Considering the main conflict of this story, I can imagine how this mindset will be problematic and even detrimental to his wife's recovery.

Simply calling this what it is--that is, a branch--would have made it more certain. A branch is a projection from a woody plant, typically a tree. However, calling it a "tendril" makes it more mysterious and unknown, as the word "tendril" is relatively vague. Typically, the less specific and more vague something is to us, the more uncertain--and sometimes, even ominous--that thing can appear to us. Perhaps the use of this vague description is to establish a feeling of unease in the reader, setting us up for the events of this story?

From the Oxford English Dictionary (https://www-oed-com.libproxy.clemson.edu/view/Entry/92769?redirectedFrom=Imprimis#eid): "In the first place; first. Originally used to introduce the first of a number of items, as in an inventory or will; thence in more general use. Now unusual." The usage of the word "imprimis" implies that he is including this information about himself because he believes it to be important to the story. It also implies that he is an organized man who prefers formalities, which would make sense, given that he is a lawyer. Compared to the OED definition of the word, however, it seems a little misplaced, since he does not introduce anyone else following a word that is meant to introduce a list. Perhaps he is out of practice?

The narrator admits to throwing around John Jacob Astor's name, but says that he only does it because he likes the way his name sounds. This might be true, but this claim comes just after him telling the reader that John Jacob Astor described him as a man of prudence and method. Those seem like things to take pride in, so it is possible that, while the narrator is an "unambitious" man, he still likes to have something he can take pride in, especially when those qualities have been appraised by such a rich and well-known man.

The ending of the story is kind of shocking to me. The last two things he hangs from the pole are signs, each with a word written on them. The first reads "Love." The second reads "Forgive?" The pole seems to be his only way of communicating with the outside world. His children have left the house, and we get no mention of them coming back, so perhaps these signs are his way of trying to send a message to them? Perhaps "Love" is his way of saying "I love you." Perhaps "Forgive?" is his way of saying "Can you forgive me?" Before he can get an answer to his question, or we can know for sure that this is his intention, he dies, and the pole that was so important to this man is unceremoniously ripped out of the ground and put beside the road to be hauled off to the landfill. It is heavy and tragic, but it ultimately ends with indifference. To add to the apparent apathy of the story to the father's emotions, all of this happens in a single sentence.

According to Etymology Online (https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=militia), "militia" was a term established in the 1580s that could apply to any military service or discipline. The first recorded use of "militia" to refer to an army of civilians was in the 1690s. By the 1900s, the militia was under the regulation of the states. They were trained and enlisted, but they were only called out for emergency situations, which put them below the level of typical soldiers. Seeing how the definition of the word has changed over time, "militia" seems to be a rather unclear word.

In the excerpts from DC v. Heller, the Supreme Court interpreted this as an operative clause. The operative clause is meant to function as a justifying statement, rather than a statement that restrains the one that follows it. Rather than saying "this right applies only to the militia," this phrase is meant to say "we are granting this right to the American people because a militia is necessary."

I believe this verse goes back to the last phrase of 13:8; "...if there is knowledge, it will vanish away." Our knowledge is never complete. As we grow older and experience more, we learn more, and we have to adjust our mindset accordingly. This verse doesn't list a definite time for its "then," implying that "then" will always be in the future, out of reach to us. No matter how old we get and how much we experience, our knowledge will never be complete, and it will never be perfect. It will always be "in part," which means that when "the perfect" (which I assume is our judgement) comes, it will pass away. We won't be judged based on our knowledge, but on our love for each other.

According to Etymology Online (https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=courteous), one definition of "courteous" is "...also "gracious, benevolent," from Old French curteis (Modern French courtois)." Interestingly, the Bible often refers to God's love and forgiveness as His "grace." I think this is meant to hammer home how love is a quality of God, and therefore, how important it is for us to love one another. Of course, the first three verses also work to accomplish this goal. Also, this verse describes love as "suffering long." Love is going to mean sacrifice for us, just as Jesus' love led Him to sacrifice Himself. Which, again, would tie back into the aforementioned definition of "courteous."

Etymology online (https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=quagmire) lists one definition of "quagmire" as ""bog, marsh," from obsolete quag "bog, marsh" + mire (n.)" I think the odds stacked against the American armies are better illustrated through this term than "battlefield," or some other, more literal term. Navigating a bog or a marsh is made difficult by the loose, moist soil. It's very easy to get a boot stuck, and pulling it out can take a lot of effort. The chances that you'll leave a bog or a marsh clean is very slim. In addition to this, bogs can be home to venomous snakes or other dangerous animals, all of which are more adapted to move through this environment than a human could ever be. Moving across a "field," by comparison, is very easy. Of course, a "battlefield" is something different, but it still has the word "field" in it, along with its connotations. Replacing "field" entirely with a more hostile terrain makes the Americans' situation seem even more treacherous, and in turn, Lafayette seem even more brilliant for leading them to emerge victorious.

The repetitive rhyming vowels and the "em!" at the end of each phrase makes these three phrases sound like a chant, which is fitting for this portion of the song, given that it is focused on hyping up Lafayette at this point. The falling beats, with the accents on the first syllable, almost feels like it's encouraging the performer to sing the next phrase louder than the previous one. The resulting energy is infectious.

The writer could have worded this as "Someday, we're gonna live in a house up on the hill," and gotten mostly the same surface-level effect. The way the song is worded, though, makes this initially harmless dream seem invasive. Instead of wanting to build a house to live in with the listener, the speaker wants to move into a house the listener has already built. This, coupled with the fact that we have no information on the singer at this point in the song, makes her desire seem uncomfortable, like a violation of our privacy. Who is this random person who wants to live with us?

The title of the song is, at first glance, pretty innocent. I can't speak for most people, but I don't typically associate gardens with violence. However, when the song starts playing, the serene melody is distorted and slightly muted. It makes it seem a little off, and it catches the listener by surprise. I believe the title contributes to that. If the title hinted more at the macabre nature of the song, we would be expecting it to sound "off," so a simpler title makes us feel surprised when we hear the melody and the lyrics.

According to Litcharts.com (https://www.litcharts.com/poetry/william-butler-yeats/the-lake-isle-of-innisfree), Innisfree is a small, uninhabited island that sits in the lake of Lough Gill, which is located in Sligo, Ireland, Yeats' home county. I think the fact that Innisfree is uninhabited speaks to just how far Yeats wants to remove himself from modern society. The fact that it is located in his home county may hold some significance as well, but his choice of Innisfree may simply be because he is familiar with it.

I think that the main theme of this poem is that Yeats wants to leave modern, "civilized" life behind in favor of a more peaceful, nature-centered life. Going off this assumption, I think the poet uses this expression to say not that the bees will be loud, but that the bees will be the loudest thing in this new habitation. This would be a contrast to city life, where such noises would be drowned out.

From Etymology Online (https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=screen): mid-14c., "upright piece of furniture providing protection from heat of a fire, drafts, etc.,"

I think the poet used "screens" here because the artist painting his late wife over and over could be seen as his way of protecting his wife's memory (specifically the memory of her as young and happy) from the hands of time. I think there is also something to be said about time being fire in this metaphor. Like fire, time can be seen as a destructive force.

From Etymology Online (https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=canvas): "sturdy cloth made from hemp or flax," mid-14c., from Anglo-French canevaz, Old North French canevach, Old French chanevaz "canvas," literally "made of hemp, hempen," noun use of Vulgar Latin adjective *cannapaceus "made of hemp," from Latin cannabis, from Greek kannabis "hemp," a Scythian or Thracian word

Maybe the poet used the word "canvases" instead of "paintings" or something similar because of this root word. It seems the poem is about an artist who paints pictures of his late wife. Perhaps the use of "canvas" is meant to suggest how he views the practice. Perhaps he uses it as a form of escapism, just as some people abuse drugs to escape from their reality. Perhaps he is addicted to it, unable to function properly without engaging in this practice.

Choosing to compare his brother to a note seems an obvious choice, since he has spent the rest of the poem comparing Jimi Hendrix's musical career to Hendrix's time spent in the military. The adjective "eighth" is what stands out to me. I believe he chose to compare his brother to an eighth note because eighth notes are very short. The speaker worries that, by participating in this action, his brother may have cut his life short.

Hayes chose what might be the most violent verb to describe the events of the poem. The soldiers don't "expose their helmets to sun," and they don't "let their helmets bask in sun." It maintains and increases tension, as well as foreshadowing the speaker's fears of his brother banging his head on the ground.

This adverb caught my eye on the first reading, and alerted me to the fact that, although "Today there is no war," there is still danger nonetheless. It also brought to light the irony of the situation. The speaker's parents are proud of what the speaker's younger brother is doing, despite the fact that it may kill him or cause great bodily harm.

I think this is the most important passage of the poem, because it says two things about the poet. One: while he is writing about the trees' and the brook's inability to mourn things in the past, he cannot truly understand what it's like. Two: though he does not fully understand what it would be like to be similarly numb and forgetful, he is envious of the trees and the brook because they are. Despite his ignorance, he thinks that if he were like the trees and the brook, he would experience a reprieve from his suffering. The event that caused his current emotions must have shaken him to the core.

The Oxford English Dictionary (https://www-oed-com.libproxy.clemson.edu/view/Entry/141782?rskey=8M5Jvy&result=2#eid) lists one of the definitions of petting as: "To be in a pet; to take offence at one's treatment; to sulk."

The phrase Keats uses to describe a cold, dark night sounds a lot like "near-sighted." I wonder if he intentionally chose a phrase that sounds like that. Perhaps the trees mentioned in the first stanza and the brook mentioned in the second stanza are "near-sighted" because of their inability to remember things that happened a significant amount of time ago? That would be interesting, because usually when people refer to seeing in time, they are referring to the future.

Both stanzas of the poem follow a pattern of 4 beats, 3 beats, 4 beats, 3 beats. It should be rhythmic, but if you read the dashes in the poem as pauses, it disrupts the rhythm of lines 3 and 8. If the capitalized words are read with emphasis, the rhythm is disrupted even more. I think this is how Dickinson wanted this poem to be read. The disruption of the poem's rhythm seems to match very well with the subject of the poem; extreme confusion and disorientation.

In Poems, Poets, Poetry: an Introduction and Anthology, Helen Vendler notes that, in an alternate variation of the poem, "Sound" is replaced by "reach." I personally think using the word "Sound" is more impactful. It's one thing for something to be unobtainable, but still observable, as the phrase "out of reach" implies. It's another thing entirely for us to lose the ability to observe it entirely, as I feel the phrase "out of Sound" implies.

The first stanza of this poem is in the past tense. Wordsworth is telling the reader the condition of himself and his unnamed "she" before the "slumber" occurred. He was fearless and happy, because she seemed eternally youthful, something time could not harm.

This word is a metaphor I did not understand until after I had read the poem in its entirety. It is not unusual for sleep to be used as a metaphor for death, but when I first read the poem, I thought that the meaning was literal and that he was the poem's subject. He was the one doing the sleeping. Perhaps this poem was about a dream he had? As I read further, however, I learned that was not the case. A loved one of his, identified only as "she" has recently passed away, and he is grieving her. Placing this word at the beginning of the poem forces the reader to read between the lines and look for context clues as to what "slumber" really means.

Wordsworth does not explicitly say that his unnamed "she" has died. Instead, he describes her as being "Rolled round in earth's diurnal course," comparing her to things that are apparently lifeless. Rocks and stones are completely inanimate, and while trees do possess life, they are incapable of human thought or action. Now it becomes apparent that, although his spirit is the one being sealed, it was done so by another's slumber. He's grieving the loss of a loved one.

The second stanza is in the present tense. Now, Wordsworth's unnamed "she" does not hear or see. Now, her seeming immortality has been crushed by a cold, hard, uncaring reality.

This poem is very brief. I think it may be to represent how quickly everything moves at a station. The poem, much like the "faces in the crowd," doesn't have time to linger. It says what it needs to say, nothing more, and is on its way.

Is it possible that the poet thinks (or wants us to think) of a crowd at the station as a single entity? Petals are individual units, but at the same time, they are parts of a larger construct (that is, a flower). Maybe that's how the poet sees the crowd at the station; a single, enormous entity made of smaller, individual units.

People tend to associate water with life. I wonder if Pound used "wet" as a way to say that the station was "lively" or "full of life." Or perhaps this poem was based on an experience he had during a trip to a station on a rainy day, and "wet" simply means that it was raining that day.

In some cases, a fiend can be defined as a demon, so I think it's interesting that he compares the infant to a "fiend hid in a cloud." Most people tend to think of heaven and heavenly things as above (like clouds) and evil or devilish things (like fiends) as below. In that sense, this phrase goes against the connotations we've given to its subject (a fiend), much like the poem goes against the connotation we've given to its subject (childbirth). Perhaps "hid in a cloud" is meant to imply that, because none of us remember what it was like to be an infant, and infants are incapable of communicating, their thoughts and experiences are hidden or obscured from us.