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“A lark, caught in a hunter’s net Sang sweeter then than ever, As if the falling melody Might wing and net dissever At dusk the hunter took his prey, The lark his freedom never. All birds and men are sure to die But songs may live forever.” — Ken Follett
A lark, caught in a hunter’s net
Sang sweeter then than ever,
As if the falling melody
Might wing and net dissever
At dusk the hunter took his prey,
The lark his freedom never.
All birds and men are sure to die
But songs may live forever.