Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way,
At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay;
I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl,
And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul!
Whatever may hap,
I'll taste of the tap,
To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. In this room was my
ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. ”
“I’m so glad. “Yes, I remember you now. Such a beautiful boy
he is, but his intelligence is marginal. I rather think they
have kicked him, from the tone of some of the letters. He said that for him beauty
justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one
nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. By the way, what did he say when he was out
of his head?"
"The word 'Fool. She found the silence comforting, as
old people often do.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 30-06-2024 15:37:52