Sappho
Anactoria
And their feet move
Awed by her splendor
Blame Aphrodite
Cleis
Cyprian, in my dream
Death
(``We know this much'')
He is more than a hero
I have no complaint
I took my lyre
In the Spring twilight
It was you, Atthis
Leto and Niobe
The Muses
No Word
Of course I love you
Prayer to Our Lady of Paphos
Sounds of grief
Standing by my bed
Tell everyone
To Aphrodite
To an Army Wife
Tonight I watched
We put the urn aboard ship
We shall enjoy it
With his venom
Without warning
Words
You may forget