‘Courage,’ urged her spouse. Norris. 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. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands. \"Some of them don't smell so good.
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