Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood;
And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood;
A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows,
Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows,
Might tipple strong beer,
Their spirits to cheer,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
II. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night,
“or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. ”
It took some days for this phase to pass, and it left some scars and something
like a decision. The tension was
palpable. He halted,—looked
fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and
yet it must be done, or Mr.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 02-07-2024 15:54:07