Órla Fallon - Raglan road

On Raglan Road on an autumn ^Fday I ^Csaw her ^Gfirst and ^Cknew That ^Fher dark hair would ^Cweave a snare That I might one day ^Grue

I ^Fsaw the danger, ^Cyet I walked Along the enchanted w^Gay And I ^Csaid, "Let grief be a falling ^Fleaf At the ^Cdawning ^Gof the ^Cday"

On Grafton Street in Novem^Fber We ^Ctripped lightly a^Glong the ^Cledge Of a ^Fdeep ravine where ^Ccan be seen The worth of passion's ^Gpledge

The ^FQueen of Hearts still ^Cmaking tarts And I not making ^Ghay Oh, I ^Clove too much, and by such, by ^Fsuch Is ^Chappiness ^Gthrown a^Cway

I gave her gifts of the ^Fmind I ^Cgave her the ^Gsecret sign that's ^Cknown ^FTo the artists that have known the ^Ctrue Gods of sound and ^Gstorm

And ^Fgood intent, I ^Cdid not stint For I gave her poems to ^Gsay With her ^Cown name there and her long black ^Fhair Like ^Cclouds over ^Gfields of ^CMay

On a quiet street where old ghosts ^Fmeet I ^Csee her ^Gwalking n^Cow A^Fway from me, so ^Churriedly My reason must al^Glow

That ^FI had ruled, not as I ^Cshould A creature made of ^Gclay When the ^Cangel woos, the clay he'll ^Flose His ^Cwings at the ^Gdawn of ^Cday