On Raglan Road on an Autumn Day, I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I may one day rue.
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way
And I said let grief be a falling leaf at the dawning of the day.
HE WAS ATTRACTED TO HER AND WANTED TO HAVE SOME PLEASURE IN LIFE THOUGH HE KNEW THE CONSEQUENSES WOULD NOT BE GOOD.

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,
Well I loved too much; by such and such is happiness thrown away.
SHE WAS BEING SENSIBLE, WANTED TO GET MARRIED MAYBE, (PLANING AHEAD),
HE JUST WANTED TO HAVE SOME GOOD TIMES AND NOT WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING.

I gave her the gifts of my mind. I gave her the secret sign that's known
To the artists who have known true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own dark hair and her own name there like the clouds over fields of May.
SHE DECIDED THAT SHE DID NOT LOVE HIM ANYMORE DESPITE HIS WOOS, SO HE KILLED HER AND BURIED HER, (MAYBE HE BURIED HER WITH HIS POEMS AS A GIFT AT HER GRAVE). HE BECAME MAD (LIKE A THUNDERSTORM.)

On a quiet street where old ghosts meet, I see her 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, he'd lose his wings at the dawn of the day.
THEY ARE NOW SEPERATED. HE HAS VISIONS OF HER. HE KNOWS THAT HE WILL NEVER FIND FORGIVENESS. HE KNOWS THAT HE HAD DONE SOMETHING TERRIBLE. HE WAS NOT CAREFUL WITH SOMEONE WHO WAS DESIGNED SO PERFECLY. HE IS REFFERED TO AS THE ANGEL~LOVER~HE FELT AS IF HE HAD TO RISE ABOVE THE GROUND WHEN HE WAS WITH HER~A HEAVENLY FEELING. HE SHOULD HAVE LOVED HER AS SHE DESERVED TO BE LOVED, BUT WAS NOT LOOKING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION AND HAS SINNED.~THEREFORE, HE LOST HIS WINGS.