The Poetry Corner

Piping Down The Valleys Wild

By 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 sung 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 vanished from my sight, And I plucked a hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.