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