Book XII, Epigram 52: Ad Semproniam

He that his brows deck'd with the Muses crowne
Whose voyce to guilty men no less was known
Sempronia here thy Rufus, here is layd.
Whose dust even with thy love still drives a trade,
'Mongst the blest shades thy story he doth bear,
And Helen's self thy rape admires to hear,
Thou better from thy spoyler didst returne,
She though redeem'd did after Troy still burn.
Menalaus laughs and hears the Ilian loves,
Thy rape old Paris guilt forgives, removes.
And when thee those blessed mansions shall re ceive,
No shade greater acquaintance there shall have.
Proserpine loves although she cannot see
Such rapes, that love shall make her kinde to thee.