“Despairing under grief’s oppressive weight, And sunk by these tempestuous blasts of fate, ‘O Jove,’ said I, ‘if common fame says true, If e’er Aegina gave those joys to you, If e’er you lay enclosed in her embrace, Fond of her charms, and eager to possess; O father, if you do not yet disclaim Paternal care, nor yet disown the name, Grant my petitions, and with speed restore My subjects numerous as they were before, Or make me partner of the fate they bore.’ I spoke, and glorious lightning shone around, And rattling thunder gave a prosperous sound: ‘So let it be, and may these omens prove A pledge,’ said I, ‘of your returning love.’