Raglan Road - Patsy Watchorn
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
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 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 that true Gods of Sound and stone
I'm word I'm tint without I stint
I gave her poems to say
With her own dark hair and her own name there
Like the 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 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 day
