Piping down the valleys wild, <br />Piping songs of pleasant glee, <br />On a cloud I saw a child, <br />And he laughing said to me: <br /> <br />'Pipe a song about a Lamb!' <br />So I piped with merry cheer. <br />'Piper, pipe that song again;' <br />So I piped: he wept to hear. <br /> <br />'Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; <br />Sing thy songs of happy cheer!' <br />So I sung the same again, <br />While he wept with joy to hear. <br /> <br />'Piper, sit thee down and write <br />In a book that all may read.' <br />So he vanish'd from my sight; <br />And I pluck'd a hollow reed, <br /> <br />And I made a rural pen, <br />And I stain'd the water clear, <br />And I wrote my happy songs <br />Every child may joy to hear.<br /><br />William Blake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reeds-of-innocence/
