Parentalia XVII. — Pomponius Maximus Herculanus, my Sister's Son

Nor may my dirge leave you unhonoured and unsung in strains of sorrow, son of my own sister, upon whose already ripened powers a full measure of high praise was lavished. Yet will it be fitter here to commemorate rather than to praise the dead. Him who was both his mother's pride and mine Fate's envious power laid low in the season of his youth. Alas, for thy fruit, my Maximus, so eloquent, so skilled in arts, so quick, so kind in heart, so gifted in mind, so fleet of foot, so graceful, clever of tongue as tuneful of voice! Take as the sad offerings ordained by our fathers, this effort to raise a tearful lament, cast in a woeful strain which in his grief your uncle presents to you.