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 her is more than I can see.

She is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see her jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about her is the way she likes to grow—

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For she sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

And she sometimes gets so little that there's none of her at all.

She hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

She stays so close beside me, she'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 arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.