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Say that I will call again or let him know my address in London. 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 lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away.
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This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 06-06-2024 16:44:13
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