on raglan road on an autumn day i saw him first and knew that his 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 a deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passions play the queen of hearts still making tarts and i not making hay but i loved too much by such and such is happiness thrown away i gave him the gifts of the mind i gave him the secret sign that's known to the artists who have known true gods of sound and time with word and tint i never did stint i gave him reams of poems to say with his own name there and his shiny black hair like the clouds over fields of may on a quiet street where old ghosts meet i see him 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'll lose his wings at the dawn of the day
on raglan road on an autumn day i saw him first and knew that his 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 a deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passions play the queen of hearts still making tarts and i not making hay but i loved too much by such and such is happiness thrown away i gave him the gifts of the mind i gave him the secret sign that's known to the artists who have known true gods of sound and time with word and tint i never did stint i gave him reams of poems to say with his own name there and his shiny black hair like the clouds over fields of may on a quiet street where old ghosts meet i see him 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'll lose his wings at the dawn of the day
