I have enjoyed this discussion immensely. I became interested in this song by hearing Joan Osbourne's version sung with the Chieftans. In the near future I will try listening to other versions. I originally just looked for the words through Google and came upon this discussion. The song is very moving and many of the interpretations I
read strike a chord with me. Many do not. I do feel it is important to understand what the author is saying. Not in a literal sense necessarily, but certainly the feelings evoked should be sympathetic to what the author felt.However, good poetry meets us where we are as individuals and perhaps its meaning for us individually is all
that matters.

I have my own interpretation of this song that is similar in aspects to some of the responses above. The question of who the woman is, or for that matter who the author is, historically is not what gives this poem its power. Nor is the local setting that the images of the poem are hung on. Likewise, if its power rested on understanding Irish
poetry and folksongs then this poem would fall on far more deaf ears. These 'facts' help but are not critical to sense the deep feeling that inspired Kavanagh's poem. I think in all good poetry, the poet starts with an experience and draws form his heritage and familiar images to clothe his/her inspiration.

RAGLAN ROAD
(Patrick Kavanagh)

On Raglan Road on an autumn day
I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare
That I might one day rue
I saw the danger
Yet I walked
Along the enchanted way
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf
At the dawning of the day

Kavanagh has a sense of fear or warning that the yearnings he felt immediately could lead to a deep hurt that he might regret. The enchanted way may be a street but is more likely a newfound path sparkling with the promise of love. In his confidence and inspiration he lets his worry fall away from him as something past, something dead
and incosequential, as he enters a new day, a new life.

On Grafton Street in November
We tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine
Where can be seen
The worth of passion's pledge
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts
And I not making hay
Oh I loved too much
And by such and such
Is happiness thrown away

Here I think as someone above mentioned Grafton street may hold the baubles of evidence of a passion's pledge. But the ledge and deep ravine are the 'razors edge' (- the tension) and the 'gulf' (- the gap) in vision and response in romantic longing and unrequited love. The Queen of Hearts . . . probably does refer to Alice in
Wonderland. But also as someone else mentioned the imagery is layered and dense not literal. The woman is or was a queen in his heart and must be for others. She is busy in her life and also is still is titillating others. On the other hand he is getting nowhere with her. (And I not making hay) He believes now that he loved her too much or
in the wrong way. Perhaps the way he loved her was frightening or not intelligible to her. I am sure she knew he loved her just that his love was a bit scary a bit too deep. She turns from him and happiness is thrown away.

I gave her gifts of the mind
I gave her the secret sign
That's known to the artists
Who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint, I did not stint,
I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair
Like clouds over fields of May.

He held nothing back. He gives her all his best thoughts, he disclosed the mysteries that deep love reveals - the secret that is known to the likes of Walt Witman and all the other visionary poets and artists - sensing that connection with spirit immanent in nature - sound and stone. He shares words and colours, gives her poems to say - poems about her and her beauty - her beautiful hair, her charms, as deep as the dark billows over a bright sunny flowered field in may. Nothing is held back.

On a quiet street where old ghosts meet
I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should
A creature made of clay -
When the angel woos the clay he'd lose
His wings at the dawning of the day

This quiet street may be the where they met. The image of the pair, their hands intertwined, have become just a ghost in his imagination. Or perhaps the ghosts just symbolize things that are past. She sees him and must scurry away. She cannot love him as he hoped. He has to come to terms with this. Part of the coming to terms is trying
to understand why it did not (or could not) work out as he hoped. He muses that he did not love her as a human. His longing and yearning were of such a nature it drew him close to the angels and to God. (She could not respond to such a love.) It is the angel in him, his touch with God, that woos her - a normal woman, which inevitably he must lose. He must then lose his wings that the love inspired. He loses that inspiration and returns to the last line of the first verse. He hast lost his wings just as surely as the fallen leaf - which he had discounted as not being important yet foreshadowed his fall from grace.

My interpretation is just that. I love this song as Joan Osbourne has sung it. It has inspired me to find the words and read al the comments posted on both threads regarding its meaning. With their help, and in reading other poetry, I have tried to interpret the poem in a way that is consistent with the deep feeling it evokes in me. I hope that it is relevant in some way for someone else out there. Mark A.