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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 she had not dressed herself in this habit of a blue so much like the sky just for his sake, no matter that Lucy had said how much this colour suited with her eyes. But this child! … It's a damnable business!" "I shall defend her and protect her with every drop of blood in my body!" replied the Flagellant. Of course, at home there would have been questions.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 19-09-2024 02:52:57
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