Old School Poem

I was sitting in the Underground recently, and out of boredom I was reading the advertisements which they have. One of them was a poem which was put up as part of some Underground campaign.

I read it, and for some reason, it was strangely familiar. The poem is as follows:

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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 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.

Walter de la Mare
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Then it hit me: I had learnt that very poem several years ago during English Literature back in secondary school. I found it weird indeed, that I could recall such a detail.