Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
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Thursday, April 03, 2008
Hunting
a monk in the 800s wrote this little ditty in the margin of a manuscript he was copying:
"I and Pangur Ban my cat, 'Tis a like task we are at: Hunting mice is his delight, Hunting words I sit all night."
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