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 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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