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. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Gracious, there’s the gong. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. "Oho!" he said. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. They lived in a castle, the same place she had been turned in. Spurlock to keep to the bungalow until the rogue goes back to Copeley's. F. " "This I do know," continued Jack,—"Jonathan Wild superintends the attack. But I may yet live to thwart them.
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This video was uploaded to bbdy.space on 29-06-2024 03:19:16
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