For of Meridians, and Parallels,
Man hath weav’d out a net, and this net thrown
Upon the Heavens, and now they are his owne. Loth to goe up the hill, or labour thus
To goe to heaven, we make heaven come to us;
We spur, we reine the starres, and in their race
They’re diversly content t’obey our pace. John Donne Anatomy of the World (1611)