On Raglan Road on an autumn day
I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare
That I might [bad word] 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 known to artists who have known
The [bad word] 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
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