File under Inspirational ... Poem by Patrick Kavanagh, slightly modified and set to music by Loreena McKennitt. On Raglan Road on an autumn day I saw him 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 worth of passions pledge The Queen of Hearts still making tarts And I not making hay But I loved too much, by such and such Is happiness thrown away I gave him the gifts of the mind I gave him the secret sign Thats known all to the artists Who have known true gods of sound and time With word and tint I never did stint I gave him reams of poems to say With his own name there and his shiny black hair Like the clouds over fields of May On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see him 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 hell lose His wings at the dawn of the day
Posted on: Wed, 17 Dec 2014 22:58:01 +0000
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