A glance sufficed to show the young man how
matters stood. "Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; "we've run
all the way. Sorrows
and danger and disappointment she had known. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the
gravel. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you
dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. Except that this music we have
been swimming in is divine. 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.
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This video was uploaded to casualcorneroutlet.net on 01-07-2024 06:27:34