On Raglan Road - POEM

On Raglan Road on a harvest time day I met her first and knew 

That her dim hair would weave a catch that I may one day regret; 

I saw the risk, yet I strolled along the charmed way, 

What's more, I stated, let sadness be a fallen leaf at the unfolding of the day. 

On Grafton Street in November we stumbled daintily along the edge 

Of the profound gorge where can be seen the value of energy's promise, 

The Queen of Hearts as yet making tarts and I not making roughage - 

O I adored excessively and by such and such is bliss discarded. 

I gave her endowments of the mind I gave her the mystery sign that is known 

To the craftsmen who have known the genuine divine forces of sound and stone 

What's more, word and tint. I didn't spell for I gave her lyrics to state. 

With her own particular name there and her own particular dim hair like mists over fields of May 

On a calm road where old apparitions meet I see her strolling now 

Far from me so hastily my reason must permit 

That I had charmed not as I should an animal made of earth - 

At the point when the blessed messenger charms the dirt he'd lose his wings at the beginning of day.

by Patrick Kavanaugh