” He said while grabbing her hands and 229 jerking her to her feet like a puppet, callously. 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. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. ” “Lucy Albert, sir. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares.
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