Martial loses a daughter

 

Hanc tibi, Fronto pater, genetrix Flacilla, puellam    Oscula commendo deliciasque meas, Parvola ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras    Oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis. Impletura fuit sextae modo frigora brumae,    Vixisset totidem ni minus illa dies. Inter tam veteres ludat lasciva patronos    Et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum. Mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa; nec illi,    Terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.

To you my father Fronto, Flacilla my mother,    I commend my darling, my delight Erotion - let her not fear the shadows' darkness    Nor the hellish hound's tremendous jaws. She would have lived no more than six cold winters    If her days had been yet six days more. With older guardians now let her enjoy her playtime;    Let her lisping babble out my name. Her tender bones let no hard turf weigh down; and, Earth, no    Burden be; she did not burden you.

(I refuse to translate Martial's
Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quam:
   Hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te.
when up against Thomas Brown's
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell.
But this alone I know full well:
I do not love thee, Doctor Fell.
which is perhaps the perfect answer to those who like to match the poem's format.)