My Shadow by Robert Louis Stevenson
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with
me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can
see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the
head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my
bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to
grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always
very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an
india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there's none
of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to
play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of
way.
He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can
see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow
sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every
buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an errant
sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in
bed.
.
