Poetry Archives

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 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.