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. Let me put the main question to you now that I could not put the other afternoon. Jack who had not been in a place of worship for many years was powerfully affected. Now, more and more, we’re going to be interested in them, to be curious about them and—quite mildly-experimental with them.
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This video was uploaded to fairlopwaters.info on 30-05-2024 04:28:58
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