| My Shadow |
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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. |
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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 goes so little that there's none of him at all. |
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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 behind me, he's a coward you can see; I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me! |
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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. |
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| The Sun Travels |
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The sun is not a-bed, when I At night upon my pillow lie; Still round the earth his way he takes, And morning after morning makes. |
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While here at home, in shining day, We round the sunny garden play, Each little Indian sleepy-head Is being kissed and put to bed. |
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And when at eve I rise from tea, Day dawns beyond the Atlantic Sea; And all the children in the west Are getting up and being dressed |
| Robert Louis Stevenson |
| Time to Rise |
| A birdie with a yellow bill Hopped upon my window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: "Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!" |
| Robert Louis Stevenson |
| Robert Louis Stevenson |