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. Though," said the thieftaker, with a complacent smile, "all the world seems to tremble at it. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable
to-night. That’s
where you go wrong. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. Perhaps for the first time he realized that
Anna was by no means an ordinary person. . ’
‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly.
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This video was uploaded to digital-fsi.org on 29-06-2024 10:10:11