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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. ’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. I shall ride to St. Nine years ago, I was honest—was happy. ‘No, no, Jacques, you have done very right. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. I want to fill it with fine and precious things.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 24-04-2024 06:41:41
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