And one must—some of it must slip through
one’s fingers. I could not dream of loving you. 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 he did give way a bit. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. It is necessary. The wall was of considerable
thickness, and built altogether of stone; and the noise he was compelled to make
in using the heavy bar, which brought sparks with every splinter he struck off,
was so great, that he feared it must be heard by the prisoners on the Debtors'
side. Knowledge was sacred
in Athens, knowledge and his twin, Art. So I undertook to
protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared,
obliterating it. Simply. The Master of the Mint
IV.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 19-07-2024 07:04:41