O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
William Blake
Across the road from the Bull is one of Hull's many closed pubs. This one has a history of attracting what can only be called a bohemian clientele, thieves, drunkards, imps, pimps and banjo players. Finally the landlords helped themselves to the takings. The observant will notice it is on the corner of Park Lane; this is one of Hull's little jokes, Mayfair is just up the road; as you can see it's more Old Kent Road.