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. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. There you will be, in an inner temple. Book. He’s a footman who works for the nuns and has taken up the cudgels on her behalf. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 20-09-2024 06:15:15
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