While Iole the fatal change declares, Alcmena's pitying hand oft wip'd her tears. Grief too stream'd down her cheeks; soon sorrow flies, And rising joy the trickling moisture dries, Lo Iolaus stands before their eyes. A youth he stood; and the soft down began O'er his smooth chin to spread, and promise man. Hebe submitted to her husband's pray'rs, Instill'd new vigour, and restor'd his years.