Classic Poem

Next our just Wonder does commence,
How so small Room could hold such Excellence.
Nature was proud when she contriv'd thy Frame,
In thee she labor'd for a Name:
Hence 'twas she lavish'd all her Store,
As if she meant hereafter to be poor,
And, like a Bankrupt, run o'th' Score.
Her curious Hand here drew in Straights and joyn'd
All the Perfections lodge in Humane kind;
Teaching her numerous Gifts to lie
Crampt in a short Epitome.
So Stars contracted in a Diamond shine,
And Jewels in a narrow Point confine
The Riches of an Indian Mine.
Thus subtle Artists can
Draw Nature's larger self within a Span:
A small Frame holds the World, Earth, Heav'ns and all
Shrunk to the scant Dimensions of a Ball.