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. He can cure all diseases of the flesh as I taught him. Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch. I am altogether a person of a disposition extremely interfering, as you have so often told me. I take their life. Wild!" demanded Trenchard, as if he had formed a sudden resolution.
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This video was uploaded to deportesfutbol.info on 01-06-2024 14:44:03
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