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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. And what a noise they made! This is how I used to call them. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. Here, as has already been observed, condemned malefactors were allowed to converse with such of their guests as had not interest or money enough to procure admission to them in the hold. " "Ay, but he will.
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This video was uploaded to freeshow.love383.xyz on 17-05-2024 22:43:53
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