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 they pipe, thy happy pie,
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 vanish'd from my sight,
And I plucked 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.

-- William Blake