Praise

Then lift up the head with a song!
And lift up the hand with a gift!
To the Ancient Giver of all
The spirit in gratitude lift!
For the joy and the promise of spring,
For the hay and the clover sweet,
The barley, the rye and the oats,
The rice and the corn and the wheat,
The cotton and sugar and fruit,
The flowers and the fine honey-comb,
The country so fair and so free,
The blessings and glory of home.
~Old Song

The Old Man and the Rabbit

C.S. Lewis wrote this following rhyme about an old rabbit he knew. He wrote this in a letter to a child:

“I am getting to be quite friends with an old Rabbit who lives in the Wood at Magdalen [College]. I pick leaves off the trees for him because he can’t reach up to the branches and he eats them out of my hand. One day he stood up on his hind legs and put his front paws against me, he was so greedy. I wrote this about it;”

A funny old man had a habit
of giving a leaf to a rabbit.
At first it was shy
But then, by and by,
It got rude and would stand up to grab it.
~C.S. Lewis

The Attic

The attic window’s in the ceiling;
You only see the clouds go by;
And when I’m there I have a feeling
Of being very near the sky.

The attic air is warm and dusty,
And there are boxes full of things,
And rods of iron, rather rusty,
And beds and trunks and curtain rings.

I often like to go and play there;
I take my story-book and toys;
It seems so very far away there,
From all the people and the noise.

But when the blue behind the skylight
Has faded to a dingy grey,
And a mouse scrabbles in the twilight,
I leave my things and go away.
~Rose Fyleman

O For a Booke

O for a Booke and a shadie nooke,
eyther in-a-doore or out;
With the grene leaves whispering overhede,
or the Streete cryes all about.
Where I maie Reade all at my ease,
both of the Newe and Olde;
For a jollie goode Booke whereon to looke,
is better to me than Golde.
~Old English

Translated in modern English spelling, the above poem reads:

O for a Book and a shady nook,
either in-a-door or out;
With the green leaves whispering overhead,
or the Street cries [or criers] all about.
Where I may read all at my ease,
both of the New and Old;
For a jolly good Book whereon to look,
is better to me than Gold.