Man hath harnessed the lightning; <br />Man hath soared to the skies; <br />Mountain and hill are clay to his will; <br />Skillful he is, and wise. <br />Sea to sea hath he wedded, <br />Canceled the chasm of space, <br />Given defeat to cold and heat; <br />Splendour is his, and grace. <br /> <br />His are the topless turrets; <br />His are the plumbless pits; <br />Earth is slave to his architrave, <br />Heaven is thrall to his wits. <br />And so in the golden future, <br />He who hath dulled the storm <br />(As said above) may make a glove <br />That'll keep my fingers warm.<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-man/
