Slowly, silently, now the
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements
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
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.
