Raglan Road

On Raglan Road on an August 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 yet I walked 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 the deep ravine where can be seen the true worth of passion's pledge

The queen of hearts still making tarts and I not making hay

O 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 artist who has seen the true gods of sound and stone

And word and tint, I did not stint for I gave her poems to say

With her own name there and her long dark hair like clouds over fields of may

On a quiet street where the 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'd lose his wings at the dawn of day