” “But how?” He was, she thought, a little too insistent. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. It was scarcely likely that she would have accepted his aid. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. 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. “I had found her at last, and she shot me. E.
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