My Shadow And I.

    A something, not of earth or sky,
        Beside me walks the ways I go,
        And I--I never truly know,
    If I am it or it is I.

    It soothes me with its tender speech,
        It guides me with its gentle hand,
        But I--I can not understand
    The links that bind us each to each.

    I hear the songs of golden days
        Fall softly on the saddened years,
        But know not whose the hungry ears
    First feasted on the roundelays.

    I feel the hopes, the yearnings brave,
        Within my bosom surge and roll,
        But know not whose the Master Soul
    That called their glories from the grave.

    I see the great world's greater curse,
        Dark struggles on through darker days,
        But know not whose the eyes that gaze
    Through all the sobbing universe.

    O, Shadow mine! Beneath my brow
        I feel thy thoughts, and in my heart
        Thy fondest longings madly start!
    Thou art myself and I am thou!

Freeman Edwin Miller

Freeman Edwin Miller was an American poet, journalist, and teacher, best known for his work in Oklahoma. Born on November 9, 1864, in New Jersey, Miller moved to Oklahoma in 1894, where he became a prominent figure in the literary and educational communities. He is remembered for his contributions to early Oklahoma literature, as well as his work in promoting education and journalism in the region. He passed away on July 14, 1951.

Freeman Edwin Miller

He Sleeps At Last.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Two Lives.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

The Farmer.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Sweet Eyes Of Blue.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

English

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The Shadow

A shadow glided down the way
Where sunset groped among the trees,
And all the woodland bower, asway
With trouble of the evening breeze.

A shape, it moved with head held down;
I knew it not, yet seemed to know
Its form, its carriage of a clown,
Its raiment of the long-ago.

It never turned or spoke a word,
But fixed its gaze on something far,
As if within its heart it heard
The summons of the evening star.

I turned to it and tried to speak;
To ask it of the thing it saw,
Or heard, beyond Earth's outmost peak
The dream, the splendor, and the awe.

What beauty or what terror there
Still bade its purpose to ascend
Above the sunset's sombre glare,
The twilight and the long day's end.

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Shadow And Shine.

    They will find in this life who are grieved with its gladness
        No songs for the heart and no hopes for the soul,
    But will faint in the glooms where the dirges of sadness
        In tremulous murmurs of wretchedness roll;
    For the sweets of this earth never lavish their kisses
        Where lives in the valleys of rapture repine;
    In the tortures they mourn who denounce all the blisses,--
        They weep in the shadow that rail at the shine.

    In the fields that are fair with the blooms of the clover,
        No garlands are grown for the arbors of shade
    Where the woes of the wood in their darkness hang over
        The grasses that wave with the winds of the glade;
    From the chimes of the breezes there echo no measures
        That gladd...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Ex Anima.

    The gloomy hours of silence wake
        Remembrance and her train,
    And phantoms through the fancies chase
        The mem'ries that remain;
    And hidden in the dark embrace
        Of days that now are gone,
    I see a form, a fairy form,
        And fancy hurries on!

    I see the old familiar smile,
        I hear the tender tone,
    I greet the softness of the glance
        That cheered me when alone;
    The ruby chains of rich romance
        That bound our bosoms o'er,
    I still can know, I still can feel,
        As they were felt before.

    I name the vows, the fresh young vows,
        That we together said;
    What matters it? She can not know;
        She slumbers with the dead!
    Again the fields ...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Your Shadow

From Swindon out to White Horse Hill
I walked, in morning rain,
And saw your shadow lying there.
As clear and plain
As lies the White Horse on the Hill
I saw your shadow lying there.

Over the wide green downs and bleak,
Unthinking, free I walked,
And saw your shadow fluttering by.
Almost it talked,
Answering what I dared not speak
While thoughts of you ran fluttering by....

So on to Baydon sauntered, teased
With that pure native air.
Sometimes the sweetness of wild thyme
The strings of care
Did pluck; sometimes my soul was eased
With more than sweetness of wild thyme.

Sometimes within a pool I caught
Your face, upturned to mine.
And where sits Chilton by the waters
Your look did shine
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Shadows.

All things are shadows of thee, Lord;
    The sun himself is but thy shade;
My spirit is the shadow of thy word,
    A thing that thou hast said.

Diamonds are shadows of the sun,
    They gleam as after him they hark:
My soul some arrows of thy light hath won.
    And feebly fights the dark!

All knowledges are broken shades,
    In gulfs of dark a scattered horde:
Together rush the parted glory-grades--
    Then, lo, thy garment, Lord!

My soul, the shadow, still is light
    Because the shadow falls from thee;
I turn, dull candle, to the centre bright,
    And home flit shadowy.

Shine, Lord; shine me thy shadow still;
    The brighter I, the more thy shade!
My motion be thy lovely moveless will!
    My darkness, light del...

George MacDonald

That Shadow, My Likeness

That shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering;
How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it flits;
How often I question and doubt whether that is really me;
But in these, and among my lovers, and caroling my songs,
O I never doubt whether that is really me.

Walt Whitman