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Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. I could not dream of loving you. They have retired. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, 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! III.
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This video was uploaded to bikemoab.info on 22-09-2024 15:23:58