. 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. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. “You were going to answer it?” “Certainly not!” she said deliberately. ” “Oh no he doesn’t. It was a mass of knick-knacks. I have it about me. In the middle there was a gate. As he moved about upon the starling, Mr. Sure Mike!" At the hotel he wrote a long letter to his chief, explaining every detail of the fizzle. " O'Higgins laughed. "Breathe at this phial," said Winifred. So she built a shrine.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ1LjU1LjE5OCAtIDIyLTA5LTIwMjQgMDU6MjM6MzcgLSAxNDM5OTE3NTYw
This video was uploaded to tructiepcauthongthuongde.org on 18-09-2024 19:18:57
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10