By many a highwayman many a draught Of nutty-brown ale at Saint Giles's was quaft, Until the old lazar-house chanced to fall down, And the broad-bottom'd bowl was removed to the Crown. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. The executioner shook his head. Then, naturally, I went on talking.
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This video was uploaded to borgodeltaglio.com on 02-07-2024 03:42:08
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