Loreena McKennitt - Raglan Road

On raglan road on an autumn day I saw he first and knew That his dark hair would weave a snare That I might one day rue I saw the danger and 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 For I loved too much, by such and such Is happiness thrown away I gave he the gifts of the mind I gave he the secret sign Thats known to all the artists who have Known true gods of sound and time With word and tint I did not stint I gave he reams of poems to say With his own dark hair and his own name there Like the clouds over fields of may On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see he 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, hell lose His wings at the dawn of the day