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;
    Couched 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.

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