Monday, Nov 8 semicolon usage

 

When to Use a Semicolon

The following assignment is the first grade for the second marking quarter

 Directions:

 1. Watch the video at least two times

semi-colon video 2:37 

2. Read over the following chart.

3. COLLECT YOUR handout from the substitute

4. Write your name on the top of the page the period number of your class.

5. Complete the assignment and turn in.

6. Thank you.

Thursday, Nov 4 Ozymandius written reflection...bonus work

 

 

Please collect your notebooks or, if you are at home, as there is no class, you may send this along as a google doc

dorothy.parker@rcsdk12.org

This is the last assignment for this marking quarter. I am counting this as bonus work. 

Due today!

In Shelley’s poem Ozymandias’ statue has the inscription, “Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!” yet there is nothing but sand and ruins. How much control does one have over how we are remembered in the future? What could Ozymandias have done while he lived that might’ve helped towards the preservation of his statue? Personal response (do not start with I!; minimum 150 words.

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe

1. I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

5. And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

10. My name is Ozymandias*, King of Kings; 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Wednesday, November 3 Ozymandius

IMPORTANT:  Please check your grades. If I missed putting in an assignment that you sent, please resend to  dorothy.parker@rcsdk12.org   Grades for this quarter end tomorrow. That allows for the extended time you have had to turn in missing work.

Notes on your The Very Old Man with Enormous Wings essay.

Capitalization!

                   Note that you only had to copy the heading

Italics:        On line, you must use italics anytime you write                                the title of a short story, poem, play or novel.

Avoid:         Repeating the title and author after the introductory                       paragraph. Use the author's surname, if needed.

Bolding:      Do Not!

Subjunctive:    If I were, not if I was

Conclusion:    Do not repeat the introduction; you must                                          conclude with a "big idea": what message should                            be taken away from the essay? Universalize!

Specific to this:   Beliefs are part of everyone's life

Honors:              You must have text woven in

Spacing:             Evenly double space throughout the whole                                      document.

Never:                 In the beginning or at the end. These                                                 are fillers.  Set the scene: when...

Never:                reference the reader. This is not a 19th century                               novel.

Never:               "We": this is not a group conversation or                                            "you think", "you know"

Supposed to:      Write on one of the themes that was given!

Make sure":      For me to edit, always send to dorothy.parker                                  @rcsdk12.org  NOT to the 200660

 Today's work is the last grade for this quarter.

Learning targets:  I can demonstrate an understanding of figurative language, word relationships, and nuances in word meanings.

                              I can evaluate a speaker’s point of view, reasoning, and use of evidence and rhetoric; identify any fallacious reasoning or exaggerated or distorted evidence. 

Ozymandius by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Percy Bysshe Shelley, who lived from 1792-1822, was an important poet during a literary and artistic period that’s known as the era of English Romanticism. He is regarded by some as one of the most influential poets in the English language. Ozymandias is one of his best-known works.  

Vocabulary

.1. visage (noun) : a person’s face, with reference to their expression

 2.

Ozymandias is another name for the pharaoh Ramses II who ruled Ancient Egypt from 1279-1213 BCE.

3. colossal (adjective) : extremely large

Colossus of Rhodes

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe

1. I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

5. And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

10. My name is Ozymandias*, King of Kings; 

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Group discussion questions:

1. Read over the poem again

2. What is the theme or the controlling idea? What specifically in the text led you to that conclusion?

3. Irony: The definition of irony as a literary device is a situation in which there is a contrast between expectation and reality. For example, the difference between what something appears to mean versus its literal meaning.

    What irony do you observe in Ozymandius?

Be prepared to share :)

Independent work below. Copy the following questions on a google doc and share, as usual: 

dorothy.parker@rcsdk12.org

 (don't forget to give me editing rights!)

Part 1:

Highlight the correct response

 Irony

1.    What does the traveler describe to the speaker?

 A.    A tall forest in a desert 

   B.    A broken statue in sand 

C.    Smashed glass in the sand

D.    A desert with abandoned techniques

   2. How does the traveler describe the expression on the statue?

A. as compassionate  

B.  as frightened 

C.   as thoughtful

 D. as arrogant

 3. What does the traveler describe to the speaker?

A. A tall forest standing in a desert

B.A broken statue lying in sand

C. Smashed glass sunken in the sand

D. A desert with abandoned antiques

4. Part A: Which statment best expresses the theme of this poem?

A. Ancient rules are an important part of history

B. People are easily corrupted by pride

C. Be wary of the stories travellers tell

D. Power and greatness will not last forever

5. Part B: 

Which selection from the text best develops the theme in Part A.

    A. I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. 

B. And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

C. And on the pedestal, these words appear:

 My name is Ozymandias*, King of Kings;

D. Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

6. What is the effect of the speaker hearing about this statue from someone else, as oppossed to seeing it with his own eyes?

A. It helps emphasize how the story has been passed on and the reader should doubt the reliabilty of the description

B. It emphasizes how powerful the king was and how much his legend continues to impact culture.

C. It helps emphasize how the story is a tale that is being passed on to the reader, indicating that there is a message to be heeded.

D. It demonstrates the readers susceptability to the influences of others.

7. For what reason did the author include the inscription on the statue:"Look on my works ye Mighty and despair!"

A. It lets the reader know that Ozymandius was a cruel leader.

B. It emphasizes the contrast between the king's arrogance and the ruin his statue has become.

C. It demonstrates the negative attitude the sculptor had about the king.

D. It compares Ozymandius to other famous kings by alluding to the classic Arthurian legend.

Monday, November 1 September Morn

 

11-12R2: I can determine two or more themes or central ideas in a text and analyze their development, including how they emerge and are shaped and refined by specific details

11-12R4 I can determine the meaning of words and phrases as they are used in a text, including figurative and connotative meanings. Analyze the impact of specific word choices on meaning, tone, and mood.

11-12W2c: I can precise language, content-specific vocabulary and literary techniques to express the appropriate complexity of a topic. 

11-12W2d: I can use appropriate and varied transitions and syntax to make insightful connections and distinctions, create cohesion, and clarify relationships among complex ideas and concepts

Essential question: How do figurative language devices-imagery, personification and apostrophe- contribute to a poem?

George Marion McClellan (1860-1934) was a minister, teacher, fiction writer, and distinguished African American poet. He is best known for his two poetry collections, Songs of a Southerner and The Path of Dreams. In this poem, the speaker describes a September night in Anguilla, Mississippi

Share with!!! dorothy.parker@rcsdk12.org

Vocabulary

rankish- growing excessively or out of control

begirt-surrounded by; encompassing*

Anguilla-a town in Mississippi

dapple- marked with rounded spots of color

muscadine-a grapevine species native to the South

katydids-an insect, also called a bush cricket, known for its loud

 mating calls.

bayou-(noun) in the souther US a marshy outlet of a lake or river

 (see picture above.)

Directions: We will read the poem three times as a class

                   Note the sound of the words

                  

                   Note the varied imagery: (seeing (visual)

                                                           hearing (auditory)

                                                           smelling (olfactory)

                                             tasting (gustatory)

                                                            feeling  (sensory)  

(Be prepared to identify the types of imagery.)

Copy and paste the poem and the questions onto a google doc. MAKE SURE THAT YOU GIVE ME EDITING RIGHTS!!!!!

             1. Answer the five questions, highlighting the correct response

             2. Respond to the use of personification within the poem, listed as number 6.

(personification is defined as a literary device that assigns human qualities and attributes to objects or other non-human things.)  Parts 1 and 2 will count as a class participation grade.)

                DUE BY 3 pm on Tuesday, November 2

                        

                       

 September Night by George Marion McClellan

(1)The full September moon sheds floods of light,

And all the bayou’s face is gemmed with stars,

Save where are dropped fantastic shadows down

From sycamores and moss-hung cypress trees.

(5)With slumberous sound the waters half asleep

Creep on and on their way, ’twixt rankish .reeds,

Through marsh and lowlands stretching to the Gulf.

Begirt with cotton fields, Anguilla sits

Half bird-like, dreaming on her Summer nest.

(10) Amid her spreading figs and roses, still

In bloom with all their Spring and Summer hues,

Pomegranates hang with dapple cheeks full ripe,

And over all the town a dreamy haze

Drops down. The great plantations, stretching far

(15)Away, are plains of cotton, downy white.

O, glorious is this night of joyous sounds;

Too full for sleep. Aromas wild and sweet,

From muscadine, late blooming jessamine,

And roses, all the heavy air suffuse.

(20) Faint bellows from the alligators come

From swamps afar, where sluggish lagoons give

To them a peaceful home. The katydids

Make ceaseless cries. Ten thousand insects’ wings

Stir in the moonlight haze and joyous shouts

(25)Of Negro song and mirth awake hard by

The cabin dance. O, glorious is this night!

The Summer sweetness fills my heart with songs,

I can not sing, with loves I can not speak.

Questions:

1.The setting of this poem is

A.    Moonlit river

B.     Vibrant rainforest

C.    Calm, sleepy bayou

D.    Wild Jungle

2. Part A

What does the speaker’s description of the setting reveal about Anguilla?

A.    The speaker describes Anguilla as only superficially beautiful, overlooking its history of cotton plantations.

B.     The speaker describes Anguilla as infested with various forms of wildlife, suggesting that it is difficult to live there.

C.    The speaker describes Anguilla as a drowsy, listless bayou, suggesting it is a dull town.

D.    The speaker describes the sounds, sights, and wildlife of Anguilla, showing its abundance of overwhelming beauty.

3 PART B: Which piece of evidence from the poem best supports your response to Part A?

A.“With slumberous sound the waters half asleep / Creep on and on their way, ’twixt rankish reeds, / Through marsh and lowlands stretching to the Gulf.” ( Lines 5-7)

B.“The great plantations, stretching far / Away, are plains of cotton, downy white” ( Lines 14-15)

C.“O, glorious is this night of joyous sounds; / Too full for sleep. Aromas wild and sweet, / From muscadine, late blooming jessamine, / And roses, all the heavy air suffuse.” ( Lines 16-19)

D.“Faint bellows from the alligators come / From swamps afar” ( Lines 20-21)

4.

As used in line 21, what does the word “sluggish” mean?

A. disturbed

B. indifferent

C. drowsy

D. slimy

5.

What do lines 27-28 reveal about the speaker’s point of view?

A.The speaker feels excluded from the natural beauty of the bayou.

B.The speaker is speechless in awe of the bayou.

C.The speaker does not feel worthy of the bayou.

D.The speaker is not allowed to sing or speak about the bayou.

6.

In no fewer than 100 words, explain how the poem uses personification to describe the bayou in Anguilla. What effect does personification have on the meaning of the poem? Cite evidence from the text in your answer.

***********************************

*7. challenge bonus, worth 100 points: An apostrophe is a literary device (different from the grammatical one) that refers to a speech or address to a person who is not present or to a personified object. Identify the apostrophe within September Night.

Fri, Oct 29 The Raven, The Highwayman poems

 The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

In class:  You are receiving two handouts: one of Alfred Noyes poem The Highwayman, the other of Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven.  They are both narrative poems; that means they tell a story.

We are going to read these as a class. As you might have noticed, I have numbered the verses and am asking you to read a verse aloud. In order to ensure that you are comfortable reading, you'll be assigned a number and have time to practice, checking in to make sure you are comfortable with any pronunciation and the rhythm of the poem. (Remember that, if there is no punctuation, you do not stop at the end of the line.)

Once we start, I'll call out the number, and we should be able to move through the poems quickly.

The Raven

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.”

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.”

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—

            Merely this and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.”

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

The Highwayman

BY ALFRED NOYES

PART ONE

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.   

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.   

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   

And the highwayman came riding—

         Riding—riding—

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,   

A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.

They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.   

And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,

         His pistol butts a-twinkle,

His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.

He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.   

He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there   

But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

         Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked

Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.   

His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,   

But he loved the landlord’s daughter,

         The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.

Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,

But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;

Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,   

Then look for me by moonlight,

         Watch for me by moonlight,

I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,

But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand

As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;   

And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,

         (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)

Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

PART TWO

He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;   

And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,   

When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,   

A red-coat troop came marching—

         Marching—marching—

King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.   

But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.

Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!   

There was death at every window;

         And hell at one dark window;

For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.

They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!

“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—

Look for me by moonlight;

         Watch for me by moonlight;

I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!

She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!   

They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years

Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,

         Cold, on the stroke of midnight,

The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.   

Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.   

She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;   

For the road lay bare in the moonlight;

         Blank and bare in the moonlight;

And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;   

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?

Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,

The highwayman came riding—

         Riding—riding—

The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!   

Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.

Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,   

Then her finger moved in the moonlight,

         Her musket shattered the moonlight,

Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood   

Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!   

Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear   

How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

         The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,

With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.

Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;

When they shot him down on the highway,

         Down like a dog on the highway,

And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

.       .       .

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,

When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,   

When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,   

A highwayman comes riding—

         Riding—riding—

A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.

He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.   

He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there   

But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,

         Bess, the landlord’s daughter,

Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.