The Antidote: A Reading from ‘A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton’ by James Thomson

A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton

Even light itself, which every thing displays,
Shone undiscovered, till his brighter mind
Untwisted all the shining robe of day;
And, from the whitening undistinguished blaze,
Collecting every ray into his kind,
To the charmed eye educed the gorgeous train
Of parent colours. First the flaming red
Sprung vivid forth; the tawny orange next;
And next delicious yellow; by whose side
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green.
Then the pure blue, that swells autumnal skies
Ethereal played; and then, of sadder hue,
Emerged the deepened indigo, as when
The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost;
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Died in the fainting violet away.
— James Thomson (1700–1748)

Poets and scientists have been warring for centuries. After Isaac Newton discovered the color spectrum in daylight using a glass prism, poet John Keats lamented the way the rational mind will not hesitate to “unweave the rainbow.” This radiant arc of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet had been revealed as little more than an optical trick, making the world a disenchanted, less miraculous place.

Thomson, however, is a poet who celebrates science. Countering Keats’s assertion that “all charms fly” at the touch of “cold philosophy,” he describes Newton’s discovery with a “charmed eye” and in a tone of religious awe. Far from banishing wonder, this advancement in our understanding is itself a source of wonder. 

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Far from unweaving the rainbow, Newton “untwisted all the shining robe of day” as if the world were a garment being laid out fresh and clean for the first time. Untwisting it, he brought order and clarity to confusion. 

For Thomson, mere light is a “whitening undistinguished blaze”—a kind of commonplace chaos. Where one poet might see an alluring enigma at risk of being explained, Thomson sees a boring mess waiting to come into brilliant focus. 

From this mess, Newton “educed” or drew out “the gorgeous train/ Of parent colors” as if unleashing a wonderful pageant or royal masque. One by one, Thomson describes the colors as they leap from Newton’s prism, from lowest to highest. “Flaming,” “tawny,” “delicious,” and “refreshing,” they seem almost tactile, evoking the splendor of the natural world perceived by our five senses. The “kind beams” suggest what the art historian Kenneth Clark once referred to as “the smile of reason.” 

The parade of colors echoes the progress of the seasons. Summertime yellow turns to the “pure blue” of “autumnal skies.” Life seems to peak as the spectrum deepens to indigo and violet, often associated with contemplation of mortality and spirituality. Light itself seems to pass beyond existence. “The last gleamings of refracted light” is a beautiful phrase that combines poetic diction with a scientific vocabulary in a way that feels sublime rather than silly. 

In the complete poem, which runs to more than a hundred lines, Thomson goes on to say: “Did poet image ought so fair/ Dreaming in whispering groves, by the hoarse brook! Or prophet, to whose rapture heaven descends!” Scientist transcends both artist and priest. 

This was a time of giddy discovery, as leading minds applied rational thought to the world around them for the first time, making breakthrough after breakthrough. Together with Francis Bacon and John Locke, Newton pioneered the Enlightenment, taking humanity out of the Renaissance and heralding the Industrial Revolution. The modern era had begun. Today, it is for each of us to balance our emotional desire for dazzling mystery with our rational need for luminous understanding.

James Thomson (1700–1748) was a Scottish poet and playwright. 

Christopher Nield is a poet living in London.

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