This is the way the older books used to connect the dots in Aquila:
It was described as the Eagle flying north while the Swan (Cygnus) flew south through the Milky Way.
I grew up a birder, and to me it never looked like an Eagle, but it did resemble a Swift:
Virgo was never a Virgin, It was a Sperm Whale:
(head on the left, tail on the right)
Over the years, I have taught many people to remember the stars by showing them the connect the dots patterns. One fellow told me in an email not long ago that he remembered the Sperm whale and sees it every Spring.
We are all human, so have pareidolia and see patterns when things are randomly put in our field of vision. Connecting the dots tells us which way is north, or west, or south, and can tell us the time of night and the season.
And it's not just humans--there are birds that migrate at night by the stars, so it is likely they see patterns too.
It's correct that such patterns have little scientific relevance, but even to a professional astronomer, saying something is in Virgo places it in the sky and tells him/her when it might be visible for study. You wouldn't apply for the use of an
observatory scope to study an object in Virgo in September, for example. So there is still some use to the constellations as a placement-in-the-sky tool.
I've seen the connect-the-dots patterns change 3 or 4 times in my life as "new" methods connected the dots differently, but even though people see the patterns differently (largely due to light pollution), Virgo is still Virgo,
and even if Virgo were called "The Whale", it would still be placed where it is and its location near the equinox would still have relevance for study.
So, whatever the names, whatever the patterns you see, wherever the dividing lines are placed, there is relevance to the constellations because they tell you where things are in the sky.
I suppose you could remember the RA of about 12 hours and remember that was half way around the sky from the Vernal Equinox, but where is the "art", or "poetry" in that?
Man does not live by bread alone.
With my apologies to Sarah Williams (I did not remember I read her poem so many years ago), I penned this poem:
Summer and Thoughts of Mortality
The Summer skies return, now girded with the heat,
And once again the Dark Horse prances ‘cross the sky.
This silver carpet is a feast of tiny points:
My soul is blessed with joy: the stars my eyes anoint;
Vega’s fires ‘cross light years come my eyes to greet;
The Swan flies on its winged way till Eagle meet.
Within their feathered arms are kept that light and dark--
The blackness of the Rift against the astral shine.
But all things must end their days—seasons, nights and lives--
The Hunter’s majesty will triumphantly rise,
And soon the cold will creep into my flesh and reign;
I’ll close my eyes and never see the stars again.
Though death is black against the light of life so stark;
My soul has loved the night too long to fear the dark.