On Raglan Road

On Raglan Road, on an autumn day

I saw her first and knew

That her dark hair would weave a snare

That I may one day rue

I saw the danger, yet I walked

Along the enchanted way

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 worst of passions pledged

The Queen of Hearts, still baking tarts

And I not making hay

Well, I loved too much, by such and such

Is happiness thrown away

I gave her the gifts of the mind

I gave her the secret sign

That's known to all the artists who have known

True gods of sound and time

With word and tint, I did not stint

I gave her reams of poems to say

With her own dark hair, and her own name there

Like the clouds o'er the 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

For I have 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 the day