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. Sebastian physically restrained her as she hit and scratched at him, trying to touch her mother who went swiftly into her death throes. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son.
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