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The barometer says nothing, neither the sky nor the water; the skipper has the "feel" that out yonder there's a big blow moving. 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. Miching Mallecho IX. Have we not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de St Erme.
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This video was uploaded to theblogfullofgames.com on 20-09-2024 00:11:14