Raglan Road

On Raglan Road of 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 falling 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 pledged The Queen of Hearts still making tarts And I not making hay Oh, I loved too much and by such, by such Is happiness thrown 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 her words and tint without stint I gave her poems to say With her own name there and her own 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 loved not as I should A creature made of clay When the angel woos the clay He'll lose his wings at dawn of day --- Raglan Road - The Dubliners