For works with similar titles, see Shadow.
SHADOW
My shadow is a restless thing,—
At dawn it wanly steals
Back from the western darkness,
Till it tags behind my heels.
At dawn it wanly steals
Back from the western darkness,
Till it tags behind my heels.
As morning grows, it hugs me close,—
Until, when noon's rays beat
Out of the blazing overhead,
It cowers beneath my feet.
Until, when noon's rays beat
Out of the blazing overhead,
It cowers beneath my feet.
At evening, it seeks the East,
Inching its dusky way
Farther and farther down the road,
Fleeing the aging day.
Inching its dusky way
Farther and farther down the road,
Fleeing the aging day.
And when the sun's at sky-line edge,
It leaps and gayly runs
Thinly out to Aldebaran
And all the cindery suns.
It leaps and gayly runs
Thinly out to Aldebaran
And all the cindery suns.
A cloud has dimmed the farthest star,
A frown against its light,—
My shadow's lean gray fingers touch it,
At the edge of night.
A frown against its light,—
My shadow's lean gray fingers touch it,
At the edge of night.
Oh, it can touch the farthest star,
But cannot bring me word
Of what pale glitter it has dimmed,
What lost sounds it has heard.
But cannot bring me word
Of what pale glitter it has dimmed,
What lost sounds it has heard.