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. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. I asked him—to take me away. It might as well be Melusine herself.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 18-07-2024 02:39:00
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