Poems of William Blake

" Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
"Pipe a song about a Lamb!" So I piped with merry cheer. "Piper, pipe that song again;"
So I piped: he wept to hear.
"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy songs of happy cheer!"
So I sang the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.
"Piper, sit thee down and write In a book, that all may read."
So he vanish'd from my sight;
And I pluck'd a hollow reed,
And I made a rural pen,
And I stain'd the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear."