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:"e;Pipe a song about a Lamb!"e;So I piped with merry cheer."e;Piper, pipe that song again;"e;So I piped: he wept to hear."e;Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;Sing thy songs of happy cheer!"e;So I sang the same again,While he wept with joy to hear."e;Piper, sit thee down and writeIn a book, that all may read."e;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 songsEvery child may joy to hear.