L When I behold the pharos shine
LI Is the day long
LII Lo, on the distance a dark blue ravine
LIII Art thou the top-most apple
LIV How soon will all my lovely days be over
LV Soul of sorrow, why this weeping?
LVI It never can be mine
LVII Others shall behold the sun
LVIII Let thy strong spirit never fear
LIX Will none say of Sappho