Classic Poem

When Jove a heav'n of small glass did behold,
He smil'd, and to the gods these words he told.
"Comes then the power of man's art to this?
In a frail orb my work new acted is,
The poles' decrees, the fate of things, God's laws,
Down by his art old Archimedes draws.
Spirits inclos'd the sev'ral stars attend,
And orderly the living work they bend.
A feignèd Zodiac measures out the year,
Ev'ry new month a false moon doth appear.
And now bold industry is proud, it can
Wheel round its world, and rule the stars by man.
Why at Salmoneus' thunder do I stand?
Nature is rivall'd by a single hand."