LXXX How to say I love you
LXXXI Hark, love, to the tambourines
LXXXII Over the roofs the honey-coloured moon
LXXXIII In the quiet garden world
LXXXIV Soft was the wind in the beech-trees
LXXXV Have ye heard the news of Sappho’s garden
LXXXVI Love is so strong a thing
LXXXVII Hadst thou with all thy loveliness been true
LXXXVIII As on a morn a traveller might emerge
LXXXIX Where shall I look for thee