The Shadow, My Shadow

The Shadow, My Shadow

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me. And what can be the use of him is greater than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head And I see him soar earlier than me, when I leap into my bed.

The funniest matters about him is the way he likes to develop Not at all like ideal children, which is continually very sluggish For he every now and then shoots up taller like an India rubber ball, And he now and again receives so little that there is none of him at all

He hasn't received a idea of how young people ought to play. And can solely make a idiot of me in each kind of way. He stays so shut beside me, he is a coward you can see I'd suppose shome to stick to nurse as that shadow sticks to me

One morning, very early, earlier than the solar used to be up I rose and located the shining dew on each and every buttercup But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head. Had stayed at domestic in the back of me and used to be quickly asleep in bed.