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. Taber returning. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. “Well, lodgings and things! And I paid my fees at the College.
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