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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. He was always one step ahead of the curve, and he had found the right girls would always rat on a ringleader when their own academic records or passage to top rated colleges were at stake. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. But I want to know what you are doing.

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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 20-09-2024 22:27:38

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