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. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect. But recently he had asked God to pile it all on him; and God had added this, with a fresh portion for Ruth. Even the children jeer. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. He took up his hat and went.
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This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 29-06-2024 04:44:42
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