Martial          40 - 104
 
Thou Mother dead, and thou my Father’s shade,
To you I now commit the gentle maid,
 Erotion, my little love, my sweet;
Let not her shuddering spirit fear to meet
The ghosts, but soothe her lest she be afraid.
How should a baby heart be undismayed
To pass the lair where Cerberus is laid?
 The little six-year maiden gently greet.
Dear reverend spirits, give herkindly aid
And let her play in some Elysian glade,
Lisping my name sometimes--and I entreat,
Lie softly on her, kindly earth; her feet,
 such tiny feet,
On you were so lightly laid.