There, in Cassiopeia, you see?
A new Venus for this ladies throne,
Holding court with Schedar and Caph.
Fools, think this be Christ’s own Starr,
Returned from holy Bethlehem far?
Or perhaps the sphere’s cleared to
Show God’s mighty hand?
No meteor this, but herald still.
It moves with her dim sisters
Through heavens revealed.
I call thee NOVA, child to
Change, Sun to Copernicus.