The Piper

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.