C
On CRaglan Road on an autumn Fday
I Csaw her Ffirst and Cknew
That Fher dark hair would Cweave a snare,
that I might Amone day G rue
I Fsaw the danger Cand I passed,
along the en-Am-chanted Gway,
and I Csaid, Let grief, be a fallen Fleaf
at the Cdawning Fof the Cday'
On CGrafton Street in NovemFber,
we tripped Clightly aFlong the Cledge
Of a Fdeep ravine, where Ccan be seen,
the true worth of Ampassion's Gpledge
The FQueen of Hearts, still Cmaking tarts,
and I not Ammaking Ghay
Oh, I Cloved too much and by such,
by Fsuch, is Chappiness Fthrown aCway
I Cgave her gifts of the Fmind I,
gave Cher the Fsecret Csigns
That's Fknown to the artists Cwho have known,
the true gods of Amsound and Gstone
And the Fword and tint, with-C-out stint,
I gave her Ampoems to Gsay
With her Cown name there, and her own dark Fhair,
like Cclouds over Ffields of CMay
On a Cquiet street, where old ghosts Fmeet,
I Csee her Fwalking Cnow
A-F-way from me so Churriedly,
my reason Ammust al-G-low
That FI had loved, not Cas I should,
a creature Ammade of Gclay
When the Cangel woos, the clay he'd Flose
his Cwings at the Fdawn of Cday
Slowing Down
When the Cangel woos, the clay he'd Flose
his Cwings at the Fdawn of Cday