The Poet and The Lunatics

The inn called the Rising Sun had an exterior rather suggesting the
title of the Setting Sun. It stood in a narrow triangle of garden, more
grey than green, with broken-down hedges mingling with the melancholy
reeds of a river; with a few dark and dank arbours, of which the roofs
and the seats had alike collapsed; and a dingy dried-up fountain, with a
weather-stained water-nymph and no water. The house itself seemed rather
devoured by ivy than decorated with it; as if its old bones of brown
brick ...