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Peacock Pie

by Walter de la Mare

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Silver

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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