From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. 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. “So Lucy, I hear that you are quite the violin player. It jars with all my ideas. Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. Martha had the square look of solid English citizenry, which was not deceiving.
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