Slowly， silently， now the moon

Walks the night in her silver shoon；

This way， and that， she peers， and sees

Sliver¹ fruit upon silver trees；

One by one the casements² catch

Her beams beneath the silvery thatch³；

Couched in his kennel⁴， 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 scampering⁵ by，

With silver claws， and silver eye；

And motionless fish in the water gleam，

By silver reeds in a silver stream.