Prayer to Lares

Lares, gods of my fathers, preserve me! While young and still nursing, you guided me when I played at your feet. Let none profane your antique images: rough-hewn wooden statues set upon altars of upturned sod then dwelled among our grandfathers. In those days humble reverence provided you with sweet honey alone, you stayed in meager shrines made of twigs, in tattered robes the gods were pleased with offerings of grapes and wreathes of wheat set upon carved heads. Lares, turn away from us those who scheme against us with their bronze weapons.