Piping Down the Valleys Wild

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1. Reeds of Innocence 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 […]...
2. Introduction to the Songs of Innocence 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 […]...
3. Songs Of Innocence: Introduction 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 chear, Piper, pipe that song again So I piped, he wept to hear. Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe Sing thy […]...
4. The Piper AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, – You rouse the heart to wander and be free, Tho’ where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell, For you pipe the open highway and the sea. O piper, lightly footing, lightly piping on your way, Tho’ your […]...
5. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
6. The Host Of The Air O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide, And dreamed of the long dim hair Of Bridget his bride. He heard while he sang and dreamed A […]...
7. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
8. In the Greenest of our Valleys I. In the greenest of our valleys, By good angels tenanted, Once fair and stately palace Radiant palace reared its head. In the monarch Thought’s dominion It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair. II. Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow; (This all this was […]...
9. Song's Eternity What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Can it noise and bustle be? Come and see. Praises sung or praises said Can it be? Wait awhile and these are dead – Sigh, sigh; Be they high or lowly bred They die. What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Melodies of earth and sky, Here they […]...
10. Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women (from a song) Perhaps I was born kneeling, Born coughing on the long winter, Born expecting the kiss of mercy, Born with a passion for quickness And yet, as things progressed, I learned early about the stockade Or taken out, the fume of the enema. By two or three I learned not to kneel, Not […]...
11. Wild Dark Love Song Her man, A wild dark love song Borne deep within her gypsy soul He’s gone to live in jagged mountains Where salmon jump and sing In tarns High above The cloud lines Beyond the silver moon In the shadow of the Cader Idris In misty mountains Where meadowlarks are known to wing And wild geese […]...
12. Belated Bard The songs I made from joy of earth In wanton wandering, Are rapturous with Maytime mirth And ectasy of Spring. But all the songs I sing today Take tediously the ear: Novemberishly dark are they With mortuary fear. For half a century has gone Since first I rang a rhyme; And that is long to […]...
13. From Paumanok Starting FROM Paumanock starting, I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar, to sing the idea of all; To the north betaking myself, to sing there arctic songs, To Kanada, till I absorb Kanada in myself-to Michigan then, To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are inimitable;) Then to Ohio and Indiana […]...
14. When Death to Either shall come When Death to either shall come,- I pray it be first to me,- Be happy as ever at home, If so, as I wish, it be. Possess thy heart, my own; And sing to the child on thy knee, Or read to thyself alone The songs that I made for thee....
15. Songs of Joy Sing out, my soul, thy songs of joy; Sing as a happy bird will sing Beneath a rainbow’s lovely arch In the spring. Think not of death in thy young days; Why shouldst thou that grim tyrant fear? And fear him not when thou art old, And he is near. Strive not for gold, for […]...
16. Dedication MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs – The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, and say I had rather bring a light to your clear eyes, Had rather hear you praise This bosomful of songs Than that […]...
17. To Any Reader As from the house your mother sees You playing round the garden trees, So you may see, if you will look Through the windows of this book, Another child, far, far away, And in another garden, play. But do not think you can at all, By knocking on the window, call That child to hear […]...
18. The Bards Of Olden Time Say, where is now that glorious race, where now are the singers Who, with the accents of life, listening nations enthralled, Sung down from heaven the gods, and sung mankind up to heaven, And who the spirit bore up high on the pinions of song? Ah! the singers still live; the actions only are wanting, […]...
19. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
20. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
21. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
22. At The Smithville Methodist Church It was supposed to be Arts & Crafts for a week, But when she came home With the “Jesus Saves” button, we knew what art Was up, what ancient craft. She liked her little friends. She liked the songs They sang when they weren’t Twisting and folding paper into dolls. What could be so bad? […]...
23. The Wild Flower's Song As I wandered the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a Wild Flower Singing a song. ‘I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears And I felt delight. ‘In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But oh! met with scorn.’...
24. Our Lady Peace How far is it to peace, the piper sighed, The solitary, sweating as he paused. Asphalt the noon; the ravens, terrified, Fled carrion thunder that percussion caused. The envelope of earth was powder loud; The taut wings shivered, driven at the sun. The piper put his pipe away and bowed. Not here, he said. I […]...
25. A Cradle Song Sweet dreams form a shade, O’er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, By happy silent moony beams Sweet sleep with soft down. Weave thy brows an infant crown. Sweet sleep Angel mild, Hover o’er my happy child. Sweet smiles in the night, Hover over my delight. Sweet smiles Mothers smiles, All the […]...
26. Ode On A Grecian Urn Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What […]...
27. The humming top The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song To my dear little boy at play – Merrily singeth all day long, As it spinneth and spinneth away. And my dear little boy He laugheth with joy When he heareth the monotone Of that busy thing That loveth to sing The song that is all its […]...
28. Home, My Little Children, Hear Are Songs For You COME, my little children, here are songs for you; Some are short and some are long, and all, all are new. You must learn to sing them very small and clear, Very true to time and tune and pleasing to the ear. Mark the note that rises, mark the notes that fall, Mark the time […]...
29. The Fairy Bridal-Hymn [This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose] This is a song to the white-armed one Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring, Whose feet are slow on the hills of life, Whose round […]...
30. Infant Sorrow My mother groand! my father wept, Into the dangerous world I leapt: Helpless, naked, piping loud: Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my fathers hands: Striving against my swaddling bands: Bound and weary I thought best To sulk upon my mother’s breast....
31. New Year's Chimes What is the song the stars sing? (And a million songs are as song of one) This is the song the stars sing: (Sweeter song’s none) One to set, and many to sing, (And a million songs are as song of one) One to stand, and many to cling, The many things, and the one […]...
32. Pan liveth They told me once that Pan was dead, And so, in sooth, I thought him; For vainly where the streamlets led Through flowery meads I sought him Nor in his dewy pasture bed Nor in the grove I caught him. “Tell me,” ’twas so my clamor ran “Tell me, oh, where is Pan?” But, once, […]...
33. Little Moccasins Come out, O Little Moccasins, and frolic on the snow! Come out, O tiny beaded feet, and twinkle in the light! I’ll play the old Red River reel, you used to love it so: Awake, O Little Moccasins, and dance for me to-night! Your hair was all a gleamy gold, your eyes a corn-flower blue; […]...
34. Refrain Of all the songs which poets sing The ones which are most sweet Are those which at close intervals A low refrain repeat; Some tender word, some syllable, Over and over, ever and ever, While the song lasts, Altering never, Music if sung, music if said, Subtle like some golden thread A shuttle casts, In […]...
35. The Lunger Jack would laugh an’ joke all day; Never saw a lad so gay; Singin’ like a medder lark, Loaded to the Plimsoll mark With God’s sunshine was that boy; Had a strangle-holt on Joy. Held his head ‘way up in air, Left no callin’ cards on Care; Breezy, buoyant, brave and true; Sent his sunshine […]...
36. In Valleys of Springs and Rivers “Clunton and Clunbury, Clungunford and Clun, Are the quietest places Under the sun.” In valleys of springs and rivers, By Ony and Teme and Clun, The country for easy livers, The quietest under the sun, We still had sorrows to lighten, One could not be always glad, And lads knew trouble at Knighton When I […]...
37. Over The Land Is April OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me, Hear my sonnets ring? Over the high, brown mountain, Love, do you hear me sing? By highway, love, and byway The snows succeed the rose. Over the high, brown […]...
38. TO LINA SHOULD these songs, love, as they fleet, Chance again to reach thy hand, At the piano take thy seat, Where thy friend was wont to stand! Sweep with finger bold the string, Then the book one moment see: But read not! do nought but sing! And each page thine own will be! Ah, what grief […]...
39. The Wild Common The quick sparks on the gorse bushes are leaping, Little jets of sunlight-texture imitating flame; Above them, exultant, the peewits are sweeping: They are lords of the desolate wastes of sadness their screamings proclaim. Rabbits, handfuls of brown earth, lie Low-rounded on the mournful grass they have bitten down to the quick. Are they asleep? […]...
40. Dream Song 15: Let us suppose, valleys & such ago Let us suppose, valleys & such ago, One pal unwinding from his labours in One bar of Chicago And this did actually happen. This was so. And many graces are slipped, & many a sin Even that laid man low But this will be remembered & told over, That she was heard at last, haughtful […]...