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Silver

Slowly, silently, now the moon

          Slowly, Silently now the moon

                     Walks the night in her silver shoon;

                          This way, and that, she peers, and sees

           Silver fruit upon silver trees;

               One by one the casements catch

                         Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;

                  Crouched in his kennel, like a log,

                    With paws of silver sleeps the dog;

                                        From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep

                     Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;

                    A harvest mouse goes scampering by;

             With silver claws, and silver eye;

                    And moveless fish in the water gleam,

              By silver reeds in a silver stream.

--Walter de la Mare