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. But of course the money will not be refunded. And Capes had changed into the easiest and jolliest companion in the world. "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the knight, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to break. We are in love.
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