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. ‘Gerald had to change both shirt and breeches. In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible. ” “We might even have—given it up for them!” “I wonder if we could. ’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise.
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This video was uploaded to motorsport-fotografie.info on 31-05-2024 04:41:39
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