Astrology. of or relating to birthdays or to the position of the stars at one's birth.
If any word occurs exclusively in grad school seminars, papers, theses, and dissertations, genethliac is that word. The Latin adjective and noun genethliacus “pertaining to one’s hour of birth or a birthday; an astrologer who calculates such an hour or day,” is an extension of the Greek adjective genethliakós “pertaining to a birthday.” Latin also possesses a noun genethliacon “birthday poem,” derived from but not existing in Greek. Birthdays and birthday celebrations were bigger affairs among Roman men than among the Greeks because one’s birthday also involved the cult of the genius, the attendant spirit or “guardian angel,” so to speak, of every freeborn male but especially of the paterfamilias. Latin genethliaca “birthday poems” arose as a distinct genre in the first century b.c. Genethliac entered English in the 16th century.
… the mathematicians allow the very same horoscope to princes and to sots: whereof a right pregnant instance by them is given in the nativities of Æneas and Choræbus; the latter of which two is by Euphorion said to have been a fool; and yet had, with the former, the same aspects and heavenly genethliac influences.
… Augustine particularly insists on the case of twins, whose fates ought to be identical, if the genethliac theory were true …
characterized by melody; songlike.
Ariose was first recorded in 1735–45. It is an Anglicized variant of Italian arioso.
He turned and looked at her, concern for her making his ariose voice a bit rougher than usual …
… he loosed the ariose floods of his voice, till a gusty song of the spring-time seemed to fill the garden.
any flag, banner, or standard, especially one that serves as a rallying point or symbol.
Originally an oriflamme was the banner or ensign that the French kings received before going into battle from the abbot of Saint-Denis, the site of a Benedictine abbey founded c626 in a city of the same name, located northeast of Paris, and named after Saint Denis, a martyr of the 3rd century who is venerated as a patron of the French people. Oriflamme means “golden flame” in Old French, from Latin aurea flamma “golden flame,” referring to the golden flames on the red background of the banner. Oriflamme entered English in the 15th century.
I was so afraid you might think we ought to sort of wave the oriflamme of our unfettered love.
… the huge and motley mass, throughout the Union, which marched under the oriflamme of the bank, had every where repeated and reiterated the same cry.
to isolate or alienate (a person) from a native or customary culture or environment.
The root of deracinate “to uproot” is the Late Latin noun rādīcīna “root,” from Latin rādīx (stem rādīc-), from which English derives radical and eradicate. Latin rādīx comes from the Proto-Indo-European root wrād- (and its variants) “branch, root.” The noun wrādios becomes Latin rādius “staff, rod, beam, radius (of a circle), ray (of light),” from which, via French, English has ray (of light or energy). The suffixed form wrād-mo- becomes Latin rāmus “branch, twig,” from which English derives ramify and ramification. Proto-Indo-European wrād- becomes wrōt- in Germanic, from which Old Norse derives rōt, which becomes root in English. Deracinate entered English in the late 16th century.
Our parents sent us to those schools to deracinate us, to obliterate our class markings.
In little more than a century, millions of human beings in Europe and America … have undertaken to deracinate themselves from the natural continuum and all that it has to teach us of Man’s relationship to the nonhuman more completely than ever before in the human past.
a person who seeks solitude; recluse.
Solitudinarian was first recorded in 1685–95.
She was such a warm, beautiful woman, so popular, so very full of love and verve and yet you, her only son, are an anthropofugal solitudinarian.
… Charron says that no one with a capacity for public good and usefulness ought to neglect that capacity. Thus, the able solitudinarian is to be severely censured.
Scot. Obsolete. breakfast.
The rare word disjune is formed from the Old French prefix des-, dis-, which comes from the Latin prefix dis- “apart, asunder, in two, in different directions” (the prefix dis- is related to the Latin numeral duo “two”). The Latin prefix may also be used like the English prefix un- to express the reverse or negative of the positive, e.g., untie, undo. Old French desjeün is thus an “unfast.” The Old French element -jun, -jeün comes from the Latin adjective jējūnus “hungry, fasting” and by extension “poor, barren.” In Medieval Latin the noun jējūnum (the neuter singular of the Latin adjective jējūnus) means “middle part of the small intestine,” so called because the jejunum was often found empty after death. The etymology of Latin jējūnus is unknown. The noun disjune entered English in the late 15th century; its use as a verb dates from the late 16th century.
Take a disjune of muscadel and eggs!
And when the two comrades were in the midst of their disjune the knight began to ask the monk (who knew everybody) about the barge he had seen the day before.
to breed, produce, or create rapidly.
The English verb pullulate derives from the Latin verb pullulāre “to sprout, put forth shoots, bring forth,” a derivative of the noun pullus “young animal, foal.” The Latin words derive from the Proto-Indo-European root pau-, pōu-, pū- (with various suffixes) “little, small, few.” The suffixed forms pau-o- and pau-ko form Germanic (English) few and Latin paucus “small, slight,” respectively (the Latin adjective is also the source of Spanish and Italian poco). The suffixed form pō-los yields Greek pôlos “foal, young girl, young boy,” and Germanic (English) foal. The suffixed form pu-er- forms Latin puer “boy” and puella “girl” (from assumed puerla). Pullulate entered English in the early 17th century.
Abundant foodstuffs, a benign climate, lack of natural enemies, high reproductive rate, minimal shooting pressure, and adequate habitat had all combined to allow the birds to pullulate wildly out of control–in fact to reach pestilential proportions.
It is evident, for anyone with eyes to see, that for half a century, animals and people alike have tended to multiply, to proliferate, to pullulate in a truly disquieting proportion.