"Do not all charms fly At the mere touch of cold philosophy? There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We knew 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 of line. Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine— Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made The tender-person'd Lamia melt into a shade."