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