But with such delusive shapes Still my pensive thoughts are eased, 10 As birds bating at mock grapes Are with empty error pleased. Yet I err not, for decay Hath but seized thy house of clay, For lo the lively image of each part Makes deep impression on my waxy heart. Thus learn I to possess the thing I want; Having great store of thee, and yet great scant. Oh let me thus recall thee, ne'er repine, Since what is thy fate now, must once be mine. 20 [_Upon the Untimely Death of J. K., &c._] The text is taken from Rawlinson MS. D. 317 of the Bodleian, fol. 175; the monogram of the title was used by King. An unsigned copy is in Harleian MS. 6917 of the British Museum, foll. 96 Verso-97: this omits 'but', l. 8.] _The Complaint._ Fond, hapless man, lost in thy vain desire; Thy lost desire May now retire. She, like a salamander, in thy flame Sports with Love's name, And lives the same, Unsinged, impenetrably cold. Sure, careless Boy, thou slep'st; and Death, instead Of thine, conveyed His dart of lead. 10 This thou unluckily at her hast sent, Who now is bent Not to relent, Though thou spend all thy shafts of gold. I prithee filch another fatal dart And pierce my heart; To ease this smart, Strike all my senses dull. Thy force devours Me and my powers In tedious hours, 20 And thy injustice I'll proclaim Or use some art to cause her heat return, Or whilst I burn Make her my urn, Where I may bury in a marble chest All my unrest. Thus her cold breast, If it but lodge, will quench, my flame. [_The Complaint._] The text is taken from Rawlinson Poet. MS. D. 317, fol. 161, where it is written, without title or signature, in King's autograph. There is a copy in Harleian MS. 6917, fol. 97, entitled _The Complaint_.] [Line: 4 thy] the _Harl. MS._] [Line: 21 King originally wrote 'And she thy weakness will proclaim', and then added the text as an afterthought.] [Line: 28 will] may _Harl._] _On his Shadow_