Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON HIS SHADOW, by HENRY KING (1592-1669)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON HIS SHADOW, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Come, my shadow, constant, true
Last Line: Unless I fall upon her.
Subject(s): Shadows


COME, my shadow, constant, true,
Stay, and do not fly me:
When I court thee or would sue,
Thou wilt not deny me.
Female loves I find unkind
And devoid of pity;
Therefore I have changed my mind
And to thee frame this ditty.
Child of my body and that flame
From whence our light we borrow,
Thou continuest still the same
In my joy or sorrow.
Though thou lov'st the sunshine best
Or enlightened places,
Yet thou dost not fly, but rest,
'Midst my black disgraces.
Thou wouldst have all happy days
When thou art approaching,
No cloud nor night to dim bright rays
By their sad encroaching.
Let but glimmering lights appear
To banish night's obscuring,
Thou wilt show thou harbourd'st near,
By my side enduring;
And, when thou art forced away
By the sun's declining,
Thy length is doubled, to repay
Thy absence whilst he's shining.
As I flatter not thee fair,
So thou art not fading;
Age nor sickness can impair
Thy hue by fierce invading.
Let the purest varnished clay
Art can show, or Nature,
View the shades they cast; and they
Grow duskish like thy feature.
'Tis thy truth I most commend --
That thou art not fleeting:
For, as I embrace my friend,
So thou giv'st him greeting.
If I strike, or keep the peace,
So thou seem'st to threaten,
And single blows by thy increase
Leave my foe double beaten.
As thou findst me walk or sit,
Standing or down lying,
Thou dost all my postures hit,
Most apish in thy prying.
When our actions so consent --
Expressions dumb, but local --
Words are needless complement,
Else I could wish thee vocal.
Hadst thou but a soul, with sense
And reason sympathising,
Earth could match, nor heaven dispense
A mate so far enticing.
Nay, when bedded in the dust,
'Mongst shades I have my biding,
Tapers can see thy posthume trust
Within my vault residing.
Had heaven so pliant women made
Or thou their souls couldst marry,
I'd soon resolve to wed my shade;
This love would ne'er miscarry.
But they thy lightness only share;
If shunned, the more they follow,
And to pursuers peevish are
As Daphne to Apollo.
Yet this experience thou hast taught:
A she-friend and an honour
Like thee; nor that nor she is caught,
Unless I fall upon her.





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