(patrick kavanagh) Performed at some concerts during her tour in 1995 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 ravine where can be seen The worth of pa**ions 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 known 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 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 ruled, 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.