Various Artists: Common Ground: Voices of Modern Irish Music album

(Patrick Kavanaugh)

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, yet I walked

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 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; by such, by such,

Is happiness blown away.

I gave her gifts of the mind,

I gave her the secret sign that's known.

To the artists who have knows the true

Gods of sound and stone.

And word and tint, I did not stint,

For 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 the angel woos

The clay, he'd lose his wings

At the dawn of day.