Sing, O Muse of mankind's hand,?
The tamer of earth, the shaper of land.?
With hammer and forge, with mind alight,
?He bends the world, as if its his right.

From chaos raw, he draws the line,?
Makes angels sing to his design.?
Where once the wild ran untamed,?
He calls if forth, and gives it name.

No force of chaos dares resist?
The hand of man, the priest, the scientist.?
For in his mind, a system grows,?
And through its veins, the order flows.

The world he tames, the stars he charts?
The chaos bends beneath his arts.?
But let him heed the dangers still -
For vanity may break his will.

Have we forgotten just to see, to stand in awe,
To love the world without seeking a flaw??
To taste its magic, not for gain,?
But simply feel the wind and rain.

With faith and song, we craft and weave,?
Through art, the wonders we believe.?
The Makers gifts, so bright and strong
-?Ingenuity and the heart of song.

Yet in our striving power’s quest,
Do we forget what makes us blessed?
So, sing, O Muse, of Mankind's hand,
But remind us, too, where we must stand.
For though we forge, and though we mold,
The world is not for us to hold.


So, sing, O Muse, not of dominion's might,
But of harmony, humble in its light.
As Makers, let us tread with care,
To earth we're bound, her fate we share.