XL Ah, what detains thee, Phaon
XLI Phaon, O my lover
XLII O heart of insatiable longing
XLIII Surely somehow, in some measure
XLIV O but my delicate lover
XLV Softer than the hill-fog to the forest
XLVI I seek and desire
XLVII Like torn sea-kelp in the drift
XLVIII Fine woven purple linen
XLIX When I am home from travel