The following lines are excerpted from “Huntsman, What Quary?” a poem written by Edna St. Vincent Millay in 1939.
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.