On Raglan Road of 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 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 pledged

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 sign
That's known to the artists who have known
The true gods of sound and stone

And her words 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'll lose his wings at dawn of day

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Peermusic Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Paddy Moloney, Patrick Kavanagh, Van Morrison