There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth,
OLD MOB and TOM COX took their last draught on earth:
There RANDAL, and SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up,
And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup!
For a can of ale calms,
A highwayman's qualms,
And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms
And nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles!
"Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing to take a pull at the bottle. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. "Dreamed!" echoed the knight, with a ghastly smile. ”
“You are very unbelieving,” Anna said coldly. ”
“There is so much I have not told you, John. “Earning a salary!”
“You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. I wish
they would just get it over with. Perhaps it was the
recollection of those happy days.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 19-07-2024 00:20:43