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. " The chair was then rapidly put in motion, and speedily disappeared. “I can sing the songs ‘Alcide’ sang, and in the same style. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. No, don’t let me call myself that. They had both been unsuccessful. And when she took and married that Mr Charvill, we didn’t think to see her at Remenham House no more.
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