Listening to a true-blue Thomistic homily on truth on the occasion of the feast, I'm struck by the tenuous position of metaphysics. The danger is hypostasis; to glean meaning from the synthesis and relation of imaginary things can lead to a belief that a question has been answered that was never in fact truthfully asked.
The dam broke with pragmatism, but before that, in Kantianism and speculative idealism, before the mind lost faith in its own words for things, and a trust that the relationship between the words and the things was both adequate and possible, some ground was gained. Read the moderns with a dash of the salt that they're so freely flinging into the readings of the old texts. Critique the critique, as my university debate coach used to say. And keep some Kant in your rucksack.