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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.

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.

"Nevertheless, the book gave Jack a feeling he had never had before, that the past was like a story, in which one thing led to another, and the world was not a boundless mystery, but a finite thing that could be comprehended."

"Proportion is the heart of beauty."

chapter one of this book ends on page 85. My god