Jup. Bring me Lightning, give me Thunder,
Haste, ye Cyclops, with your forked Rods,
This Rebel Love braves all the Gods,
And every Hour by Love is made
Some Heav'n-defying Encelade.
Bring me Lightning, give me Thunder.
Pel. and Thet. Jove may kill, but ne'er shall sunder.
Jup. Bring me Lightning, give me Thunder.
Pel. and Thet. Jove may kill, but ne'er shall sunder.
Thet. Thy Love still arm'd with Fate
Is dreadful as thy Hate:
O might it prove to me,
So gentle Peleus were but free,
O might it prove to me
As fatal as to lost consuming Semelè!
Thy Love still arm'd with Fate
Is dreadful as thy Hate.
Prom. Son of Saturn, take Advice
From one, whom thy severe Decree
Has furnish'd Leisure to grow wise:
Thou rul'st the Gods, but Fate rules thee.
Whoe'er th' Immortal Maid compressing
Shall taste the Joy, and reap the Blessing,
Thus th' unerring Stars advise:
From that auspicious Night an Heir shall rise,
Paternal
