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. After all, why need one look down. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. "You mean you were just sorry for him?" "As I would be for any human being in pain. ’ The lady opened her eyes very wide indeed. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men.
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