And thus he addresses the spirit of Comatas: O dear divine Comatas, I would that thou and I Beneath this broken sunlight this leisure day might lie; Where trees from distant forests, whose names were strange to thee, Should bend their amorous branches within thy reach to be, And flowers thine Hellas knew not, which art hath made more fair, Should shed their shining petals upon thy fragrant hair.
Then thou shouldst calmly listen with ever-changing looks To songs of younger minstrels and plots of modern books, And wonder at the daring of poets later born, Whose thoughts are unto thy thoughts as noontide is to morn; And little shouldst them grudge them their greater strength of soul, Thy partners in the torch-race, though nearer to the goal.
* * * * * Or in thy cedarn prison thou waitest for the bee: Ah, leave that simple honey and take thy food from me.
My sun is stooping westward.

Entranced dreamer, haste; There's fruitage in my garden that I would have thee taste.
Now lift the lid a moment; now, Dorian shepherd, speak; Two minds shall flow together, the English and the Greek.
A few phrases of these beautiful stanzas need explanation.

"Broken sunlight" refers, of course, to the imperfect shade thrown by the trees under which the poet is lying.

The shadow is broken by the light passing through leaves, or conversely, the light is broken by the interposition of the leaves.

The reference to trees from distant forests no doubt intimates that the poet is in some botanical garden, a private park, in which foreign trees are carefully cultivated.