Isa (Craig) Knox (1831–1903)

IT falls before, it follows behind,

Darkest still when the day is bright;

No light without the shadow we find,

And never shadow without the light.

From our shadow we cannot flee away;

It walks when we walk, it runs when we run;

But it tells which way to look for the sun;

We may turn our backs on it any day.

Ever mingle the light and shade

That make this human world so dear;

Sorrow of joy is ever made,

And what were a hope without a fear?

A morning shadow o’er youth is cast,

Warning from pleasure’s dazzling snare;

A shadow lengthening across the past,

Fixes our fondest memories there.

One shadow there is, so dark, so drear,

So broad we see not the brightness round it;

Yet ’tis but the dark side of the sphere

Moving into the light unbounded.