On Raglan Road on an Autumn day he saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that he might someday rue
He saw the danger and yet he passed along the enchanted way
And he said let grief be a falling leaf at the dawning of the day
And he said let grief be a falling leaf at the dawning of the day
On Grafton street in November they tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge
The Queen of hearts still making tarts, and him not making hay
Oh he loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away
He loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away
He gave her gifts of the mind, he gave her the secret sign
That's known to artists who have known true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint without stint, he gave her poems to say
With her own dark hair, and her own name there, like clouds o'er fields of May
With her own dark hair, and her own name there, like clouds o'er fields of May
On a quiet street, where old ghosts meet, he sees her walking now
Away from him so hurriedly, his reason must allow
That he has loved not as he should a creature made of clay
When the angel woos the clay he'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
When the angel woos the clay he'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
At the dawning of the day