Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III. Lucy looked at her with a small measure of pity. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. Squads reached to the very portal of that centre of disturbance.
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