[DA]
On Raglan Road on an autumn day
I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare
That I might one day rue

I saw the danger and 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 the deep ravine where can be seen
The worth of passions pledged

The Queen of Hearts still making tarts
And I, 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 word and tint I did not 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 wooed not as I should
A creature made of clay
When an angel woos the clay
He'll lose his wings at the dawn of day