"To fight aloud" could be considered SYNESTHESIA, using a word that refers ot one sense with a word that refers to a different sense (hearing in "aloud," and touch and vision in "fight.) This is kind of a strange case. The Word "aloud" usually refers to something that is done silently, such as thinking. Most fights are noisy, so this says that we should be looking at the other senses involved in fighting.
"Gallenter" is ONOMOTOPOEA--using a word that sounds like the thing it describes. Notice that the standard usage would be "more gallant." Dickinson is perfectly capable of coming up with a word to fit the RHYME and METER without using the "-er" ending instead of "more gallant," which is the standard form. This is what is meant by POETIC LICENSE: Dickinson is drawing our attention to the word "gallanter," because it sounds like "galloping," which is an onomotopoetic word for the way horses run.
The entire first stanza's description of a cavalry charge is a METAPHOR for trying to deal with depression, "the cavalry of woe."
"The cavalry of woe" is a PERSONIFICATION.
The second paragraph uses a kind of REPETITION of "who" and "whose," which is called ALLITERATION--repeating a consonant, a special form of repetition and/or RHYME. The repetition of the 'oh' sound is ASSONANCE--repeating a vowel.
Beginning each sentence with a pronoun that we would normally use only at the beginning of a sentence that is a question in a sentence that is not a question is, in this case, what is called DICTION--choosing words from certain groups of words with common cultural connections. (Example: surfers saying "Dude.")
In this poem Dickinson has chosen to use what is called a "Latinate form." This would be standard form in Latin. But it is not the standard form in English, where we usually say, "They who win," and "They who fall," and "He whose dying eyes."
In the nineteenth century, Latinate forms were considered "poetic" DICTION, because Latin was considered a better language than English, and its forms were sometimes thought more impressive than plain English. Dickinson is not just being "poetic," but she is saying something by using Latinate diction rather than plain English diction, which she could use very easily. She is using the DICTION as a METAPHOR in this poem.
We think of the Roman Army as the most glorious and powerful of all the armies in history. Many sayings of gallant warriors in Latin poetry begin with the grammatical form Dickinson has chosen, and the people she knew would have understood that when they read it. The poet here intends that images of Roman soldiers enter the mind of the reader as soon as he reads "Who" and "Whose." The odd grammatical use of the pronouns here is actually IMAGERY.
Notice also that while the heavy sounds and Latinate forms of that paragraph build up, the sentences are all negative, and tell us that these images of pageantry, meaning to show everything off, are something that no one ever sees or appreciates. This is a device called IRONY, where the writer means one thing by saying the opposite.
The JUXTAPOSITION, or putting side by side or parallel in sentences, of "win" and "fall" is a simple placement of words that tells us these opposing ideas are not important, that one could do just as well as the other. It is the fight against depression or "woe" that is important, not winning or losing.
The "plumed procession" is also a reference to the Roman cavalry, who wore and carried plumes on helmets and poles.
But then the poet shifts to an image of another kind of "plumes" or feathers--angels. The Roman plumes we expected are not the ones she is going to talk about in the third stanza. She tricks us--very typical of Dickinson--making us stop and think, and perhaps question our values that tell us winning is important. She tells us here that "winning" is a different thing in a different army, on a different battlefield.
The lines beginning with "Who," Who" and "Whose" in the second stanza may be complete sentences in Latin, but they are only clauses and not complete sentences in English. So when we get to "We trust" at the beginning of the third stanza, it seems to reflect back and complete the sentences in the second stanza. This is a REFLEXIVE movement, a kind of figure of speech.
The reflexive movement that takes us back to the previous stanza, supports the contrast between the image of Roman conquerors and the negatives in the second stanza, and the suggestion of a question that still lingers in the use of "Who" and "Whose": we are supposed to "question" or "re-examine" our values.
We understand that every country has an army. We know that there is no country that can "regard" or look at those who fight depression (the cavalry of woe) within themselves. No one sees the fight, and these people have no particular country that might "regard" them or see them as patriots. So the poet is asking us to ask ourselves what country can we "trust" or have faith will eventually see them as part of a glorious "procession" or parade.
Whose army has angels in it?
What does "rank after rank" suggest about the size of this army?
If you think of an army, what does "even feet" mean? Are they well trained, all of one mind?
What is meant by "foot" or "feet" in poetry?
"Snow" is a metaphor for "white" and white is an image of what virtue?
What color were the uniforms of the ancient Romans? You may know a hymn that talks about robes being washed and turned to white. In what are the sinners' robes in the hymn washed? Is it something we would find on a battlefield? What color is it?
YOU CAN DO THIS!
2007-02-27 12:08:37
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answer #1
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answered by ? 2
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Here is something you can work with. Now do your best. Preludes by TS Eliot I The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps. II The morning comes to consciousness Of faint stale smells of beer >From the sawdust-trampled street With all its muddy feet that press To early coffee-stands. With the other masquerades That time resumes, One thinks of all the hands That are raising dingy shades In a thousand furnished rooms. III You tossed a blanket from the bed, You lay upon your back, and waited; You dozed, and watched the night revealing The thousand sordid images Of which your soul was constituted; They flickered against the ceiling. And when all the world came back And the light crept up between the shutters, And you heard the sparrows in the gutters, You had such a vision of the street As the street hardly understands; Sitting along the bed's edge, where You curled the papers from your hair, Or clasped the yellow soles of feet In the palms of both soiled hands. IV His soul stretched tight across the skies That fade behind a city block, Or trampled by insistent feet At four and five and six o'clock And short square fingers stuffing pipes, And evening newspapers, and eyes Assured of certain certainties, The conscience of a blackened street Impatient to assume the world. I am moved by fancies that are curled Around these images, and cling: The notion of some infinitely gentle Infinitely suffering thing. Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh; The worlds revolve like ancient women Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
2016-03-29 03:33:57
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answer #2
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answered by Anonymous
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