"Oh!—to see you thus!" cried Thames, in an agony of affliction. Do not imagine that I cannot do so, as well as I can this Gérard. You have never seen the child within your arms perishing from hunger, and no relief to be obtained. 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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