Longfellow: "My Lost Youth"

·       The poem is titled “My Lost Youth.” How can the word “lost” take on different meanings here and give us the opportunity to frame the meaning of the poem in different ways?

·       “A boy’s will in the wind’s will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts…”

-What symbolism can wind as an element of nature take on in general?

-One way of defining “will” is inevitability (“accidents will happen”). How does using that definition of the term in this line provide additional insight and meaning?

Often I think of the beautiful town

      That is seated by the sea;

Often in thought go up and down

The pleasant streets of that dear old town,

      And my youth comes back to me.

            And a verse of a Lapland song

            Is haunting my memory still:

      "A boy's will is the wind's will,

And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

What do you notice about the changes in the song description from stanza to stanza?

• And a verse of a Lapland song

• And the burden of that old song,

• And the voice of that wayward song

•   And the music of that old song

• And the sound of that mournful song

•     And the verse of that sweet old song,

• And the voice of that fitful song

•  And the words of that fatal song

•  Are singing the beautiful song

•  And the strange and beautiful song,

Poe: "Sonnet to Science"

·       In general, what kind of behavior patterns are associated with vultures?

·       Look at the end-rhyme and punctuation in the early stanzas: art!/heart, eyes/wise? How do these pairs further reflect Poe’s critical tone?

·       Poe refers to science as the “daughter of old time,” which can question it’s newness and revolutionary qualities. Then, he goes on to dedicate his final stanzas to the forced removal of mythical creatures from their homes, with forceful words like “dragged, driven, and torn.” How does this structure and logic allow Poe to further criticize scientific advancement?

​Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!

   Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.

Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,

   Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?

How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,

   Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering

To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,

   Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?

Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car,

   And driven the Hamadryad from the wood

To seek a shelter in some happier star?

   Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,

The Elfin from the green grass, and from me

The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?