Rainbows

2010 – 2017

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, as it
erewhile made
the tender-person’d Lamia
melt into a shade.

-John Keats