作词 : Traditional
On  Raglan  Road  on  an  Autumn  Day,
I  saw  her  first  and  knew
That  her  dark  hair  would  weave  a  snare
That  I  may  one  day  rue.
I  saw  the  danger,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  worst  of  passions  pledged.
The  Queen  of  Hearts  still  baking  tarts
And  I  not  making  hay,
Well  I  loved  too  much;by  such  and  such
Is  happiness  thrown  away.
I  gave  her  the  gifts  of  the  mind.
I  gave  her  the  secret  sign
That's  known  to  all  the  artists  who  have
Known  true  Gods  of  Sound  and  Time.
With  word  and  tint  I  did  not  stint.
I  gave  her  reams  of  poems  to  say
With  her  own  dark  hair  and  her  own  name  there
Like  the  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,
For  I  have  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.