Lo, man has laid his sceptre on the stars,
And sent his spell upon the continents.
The heavens confess their secrets, and the stones,
Silent as God, publish their mystery.
Man calls the lightning from its secret place,
That he may shrink the spaces of the world,
And eavesdrop at the latched Antipodes.
The wild, white, smoking horses of the sea
Are startled by his thunders. The World-Powers
Crowd round to be the lackeys of the king.