The poem
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 sang 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.