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Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. "Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. Before that came your father didn’t even know you were gone. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade.

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This video was uploaded to reverse-osmosis-water-filter.info on 23-06-2024 18:51:54

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