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. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. ” “Then why are you sorry that I am going to the ‘Unusual’? I do not understand. —Strype's Stow.
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This video was uploaded to probiv.club on 29-05-2024 12:03:13
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