Before the story of The Castle Otranto, the story that started gothic literature, there is a sonnet tucked away. It’s Romantic in its implications for it warns us of reason’s peevish blame. That reason, science, mathematics, don’t always cut to the heart of the matter.
Oh! guard the marvels I relate
Of fell ambition scourg’d by fate,
From reason’s peevish blame.
Blest with thy smile, my dauntless sail
I dare expand to Fancy’s gale,
For sure thy smiles are Fame.