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.

###

Taken from MAD, YOU SAY?
A Clear-Eyed Review of William Blake
Martin Heavisides

William Blake, 1789

Published in Linnet's Wings Winter Issue, 2013