So blyth was he , and fou ' of pawks; -- But yet he's dead!
Coordinate term: towboat
On ſome fond breaſt the parting ſoul relies, / Some pious drops the cloſing eye requires; / Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, / Ev'n in our Aſhes live their wonted Fires.
If you take the next left, you’ll see a big shop and hey presto, you’re there.
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