"Silver" by Walter de la Mare
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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"Silver" by Walter de La Mare. Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the
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night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver
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fruit upon silver trees;
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One by one the casements catch Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
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Couched in his kennel, like a log, With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
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From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
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A harvest mouse goes scampering by, With silver claws, and silver eye;
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And moveless fish in the water gleam By silver reeds in a silver stream.
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"Silver" by Walter de La Mare.