John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. 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. ” John peered at her as she went to him.
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This video was uploaded to newyorkairportlimo.mobi on 18-07-2024 22:32:39
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