the rainbow, unwoven
November 20, 2006
do not all charms fly
at the mere touch of cold philosophy?
there was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
we know her woof, her texture; she is given
in the dull catalogue of common things.
philosophy will clip an angel’s wings,
conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine -
unweave a rainbow…
- John Keats, Lamia
