Their ruined mansion struggle to restore;
By their own might they think to make again
The Earth a happy Eden as of yore.
This task no mortal skill can execute,
All Archimedean subtleties are vain;
Invention, sciences, and minds astute,
Are baulked, like those of old on Shinar’s plain.
Though unto us the elements become
Obsequious helots to our wills subdued;
Though, Ariel-like, the glittering lightning run,