On Raglan Road, on an Autumn day I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might some day rue
I saw the danger, yet I passed along the enchanted way
And I said, "let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day"
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 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 a-known to artists who have known 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 o'er fields of May
With her own name there, and her own dark hair
Like clouds o'er 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 have loved not as I should a creature made of clay
When the Angel woos the clay, he'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
When the Angel woos the clay, he'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
At the dawning of the day