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. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland. I would have liked to know. “Thank you, ma’am. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath. It numbered nine, and four of these were women students. The meat was coarse and disagreeably served.
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This video was uploaded to theblogfullofgames.com on 19-09-2024 11:04:59
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