In 1620, the clergyman found himself moved to write a poem.

The poet was a Tuscan cardinal on the rise within the church hierarchy.

As a prince of the church, he was of course deeply schooled in Roman Catholic theology,

but in recent years he had become just as curious about something that was becoming known as

the New Science.

In particular, he marveled at the discoveries of his fellow Tuscan, the great Galileo

Galilei.

The two men had met on a number of occasions, shared a few meals together, and even struck

up a friendly correspondence.

The cardinal made no secret of the fact that he was an admirer of Europe's best-known

scientist.

In fact, he was so impressed by Galileo that he penned a Latin poem praising the peasant

stargazer.

He would write, quote,

When the moon shines forth in heaven and sprinkles the glittering fires in a serene arc

in a golden procession, then marvelous delights draw and holds fast the eyes of people.

This person here admires the evening star shining forth, the fearsome star of Mars, and

the sheen of the Milky Way.

That person there admires your light, O Polaris.

Still another marvels at the heart of the scorpion, or at the blazing dog star, or at

the attendance of Jupiter, or of Saturn, his father.

That were discovered by your glass, learned Galileo, and, quote,

...