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. “And now tell me, please, how you eloped from Morningside Park. " With this, he attacked her vigorously in his turn. He has a grand time. ‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. ’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe.
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