When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. I don’t love you. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. Her English was halting. I don’t care what else there is in the world. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. It wasn’t pretty.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 11-05-2024 23:00:22
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