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. From his wallet
he brought forth a yellow letter. I don’t mind telling you chaps
that except on the stage I haven’t set eyes on her this side of the water. . He had a
flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of
tanning. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper,
drawing his chair closer to hers.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 05-07-2024 16:28:21