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Lit Terms

Lit Terms. Christina Philipson Period 7. Parody. Humorous imitation of another, usually serious work. It imitates the tone, language and shape of original text. Prosody . The overall metrical structure of a poem. Synecdoche.

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Lit Terms

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  1. Lit Terms Christina Philipson Period 7

  2. Parody • Humorous imitation of another, usually serious work. It imitates the tone, language and shape of original text.

  3. Prosody • The overall metrical structure of a poem.

  4. Synecdoche • Kind of metaphor where part of something is used to signify the whole.

  5. Pragmatist Apocalypse soonComing our wayGround zero at noonHalve a nice day.Edmund Cont

  6. Verisimilitude • The appearance or semblance of truth

  7. Verisimilitude how's it feel when the world starts to crumble?when everything starts to collide in a massive catastrophewhen you feel so alonethat nothing makes sincethen the realization come to mindthat maybe the world is the problemit's the vicious poison that captures everyone blinds them from the truthlike a blood thirsty spider, waiting for some stupid, unintelligent insect to crawl into her trapit's what people ignore to seethe plain dead truthit's called reality

  8. Versification • The system of rhyme and meter in poetry, making verses.

  9. To the Virgin, to Make Much of Time GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may,     Old time is still a-flying : And this same flower that smiles to-day     To-morrow will be dying.The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,     The higher he's a-getting,The sooner will his race be run,     And nearer he's to setting.That age is best which is the first,     When youth and blood are warmer ; But being spent, the worse, and worst     Times still succeed the former.Then be not coy, but use your time,     And while ye may go marry : For having lost but once your prime     You may for ever tarry

  10. Wit • A speech or writing showing expression

  11. To Autumn Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,     Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless     With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,     And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;         To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells     With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease,         For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?     Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,     Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook         Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep     Steady thy laden head across a brook;     Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,         Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. Where are the songs of spring?  Ay, where are they?     Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, - While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,     And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn     Among the river sallows, borne aloft         Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;     Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft     The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;         And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

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