The Sick RoseBY WILLIAM BLAKEO Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bedOf crimson joy:And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.
The Sick RoseBY WILLIAM BLAKEO Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bedOf crimson joy:And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.