The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth, OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth: There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up, And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup! For a can of ale calms, A highwayman's qualms, And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! "Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle. " Thames tried to answer her, but his voice failed him. He did his best not to grin. You will sever ties with your own kin?” “Yes.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 01-06-2024 04:53:32
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