Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. 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. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. I must obey. " "Jack!" cried Thames, in indignant surprise.
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