“If I was the world I think I should have put down a crimson carpet, and asked you to say what you wanted, and generally walk over me. Mrs. “Mere sensuality. ” (Fifteen pounds. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night. 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. 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. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess.
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