On Raglan Road

On Raglan Road on 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 fallen 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 passion's pledge 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 signs That's known to the artists who have known, the true gods of sound and stone And word 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'd lose, his wings at the dawn of day Alternate: Capo III