January 26, 2014

Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour




Upon this gifted age, in its dark hour,
Rains from the sky a meteoric shower
Of facts . . . they lie unquestioned, uncombined.
Wisdom enough to leech us of our ill
Is daily spun; but there exists no loom
To weave it into fabric.
 
–Edna St. Vincent Millay, from
“Upon This Age That Never Speaks Its Mind," 1939 






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