Never more shall I behold The country of my birth. In suffering, guiltless, I’m condemned To pass my life on earth. The owl upon the roof will call And grief my heart will tear, His voice will echo in the woods, And I shall not be there.

This song was often sung amongst us, not in chorus, but as a solo. Someone would go out on to the steps, sit down, ponder a little with his cheek on his hand and begin singing it in a high falsetto. It made one’s heart ache to hear it. There were some good voices among us.