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. Discover William Blake's poetry and download his free e-book here.