d,
"So sought through earth, mother of all earth's fruits!
"Cease now thy toilsome labor; cease thine ire,
"Against the land that prov'd to thee so true:
"Thine ire unmerited; unwilling she,
"Op'd for the spoil a passage. Hither I
"No suppliant for my native isle approach;
"An alien here sojourning. Pisa's land
"My country; there near Elis first I sprung:
"A stranger now in Sicily I dwell.
"This soil, more grateful far than is my own;
"This soil, where I my houshold gods have plac'd;
"I, Arethusa, and have fix'd my seat,
"Preserve, mild goddess! Why I chang'd my land,
"Why to Ortygia, through the wide waves borne,
"I came, a more appropriate hour will ask;
"When you, from care reliev'd, can grant your ear
"With brow unclouded. Through the opening earth
"I flow; and borne through subterraneous depths,
"Here lift again my head, again behold
"The long-lost stars. Hence was my lot to see,
"As pass'd my stream close by the Stygian gulph,
"Your Proserpine;--sad still her face appear'd,
"Nor fear had wholly left it. Yet she reigns
"A queen; the mightiest in the realm of shade,
"The powerful consort of th' infernal king.

"Like marble at the words the mother stands,
"Stupid with grief; and long astounded seems:
"Sorrow by heavier sorrow now surpass'd.
"Then in her chariot mounts th' ethereal sky,
"And stands indignant at th' imperial throne;
"Her locks wild flowing, and her face in clouds.
"Lo! here a suppliant, Jove,--she cry'd,--I come,
"To beg for her, my daughter and thine own;
"For if no favor may the mother find,
"The daughter's claim may move. Let not thy child
"Deserve thy care the less, as born of me.
"Lo! my lost maid, so long, so vainly sought
"At length is found; if finding we may call
"A surer loss; if finding we may call
"The knowledge where she is. Her ravish'd charms
"I'll pardon; let him but my child restore.
"What though a robber might my daughter wed,
"Thine sure is worthy of a different mate!
"Then Jove;--our daughter, our dear mutual pledge,
"As yours, so mine, demands our mutual care.
"But rightly still affairs if we design,
"What you lament will no injustice prove;
"Love only. Sure, a son-in-law like him,
"Can ne'er degrade, will you consent but yield.
"Grant nought beyond,--'tis no such trivial boast,
"Jove's brother to be call'd! How then, if more
"I claim pre-eminence from chance al