On Raglan Road on an Autumn day

I saw her first and knew

That her dark hair would weave a snare

That I might one day rue

I saw the danger and I passed

Along the enchanted way

And I said "Let grief be a fallen leaf

At the dawning of the day "

On Grafton Street in November

We tripped lightly along the ledge

Of a deep ravine where can be seen

The worth of passions pledge

The Queen of Hearts still making tarts

And I not making hay

Oh I loved too much and by such by such

Is happiness blown away

I gave her gifts of the mind

I gave her the secret sign that's known

To the artists who have known the true

Gods of sound and stone

And word and tint to with our stint

I gave her poems to say

With her own name there and her dark hair

Like clouds over fields of May

On a quiet street where old ghosts meet

I see her walking now

Away from me so hurriedly

My reason must allow

That I had wooed not as I should

A creature made of clay

When the angel woos the clay

He'll lose his wings at the dawn of day