However good you were to me, and however happy I was in other ways, I should find this intolerable. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. 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. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed.
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This video was uploaded to extremesport8.info on 19-07-2024 03:26:52
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