There once was a man, the second son of a trader
1805 moved into Welton House, said "Essex see ya later"
In Kingston Upon Hull he established a bank
He toasted his success with the whiskey he drank
In 1918 he built a structure on a circular plinth
Underneath, a vault, not quite a labyrith!
A shallow domed roof, faced in light stone
1960 a robbery- a skull and old bone!
The vault is now completely sealed
The site of 'Welton Dale Burial field"
So who was this man, this tale is about?
and the place we walk by after eating our sprouts?
His name was Robert Raikes, husband to Anne
1765-1837, where it ended and began
Merry Christmas to my Dad, Paul!