On Raglan Road
The DublinersVersion1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
On Raglan Road on an autumn day,
I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare,
that I might one day rue
I saw the danger and I passed,
along the enchanted way,
and I said: 'Let grief, be a fallen leaf
at the dawning of the day'
On Grafton Street in November,
we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a 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,
by such, is happiness thrown away
I gave her gifts of the mind,
I gave her the secret signs
That's known to the artists who have known,
the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint, without stint,
I gave her poems to say
With her own name there, and her own dark hair,
like clouds over fields of May
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 loved, not as I should,
a creature made of clay
When the angel woos the clay,
he'd lose, his wings at the dawn of day
* Alternate:
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Readable chord sheet for On Raglan Road by The Dubliners
[D] On [D]Raglan Road on an autumn [G]day, I [D]saw her [G]first and [D]knew That [G]her dark hair would [D]weave a snare, that I might [Bm]one day [A]rue I [G]saw the danger [D]and I passed, along the en[Bm]chanted [A]way, and I [D]said: 'Let grief, be a fallen [G]leaf at the [D]dawning [G]of the [D]day' On [D]Grafton Street in Novem[G]ber, we tripped [D]lightly a[G]long the [D]ledge Of a [G]deep ravine, where [D]can be seen, the worth of [Bm]passion's [A]pledge The [G]Queen of Hearts, still [D]making tarts, and I not [Bm]making [A]hay Oh, I [D]loved too much and by such, by [G]such, is [D]happiness [G]thrown a[D]way I [D]gave her gifts of the [G]mind, I [D]gave her the [G]secret [D]signs That's [G]known to the artists [D]who have known, the true gods of [Bm]sound and [A]stone And [G]word and tint, with[D]out stint, I gave her [Bm]poems to [A]say With her [D]own name there, and her own dark [G]hair, like [D]clouds over [G]fields of [D]May On a [D]quiet street, where old ghosts [G]meet, I [D]see her [G]walking [D]now A[G]way from me so [D]hurriedly, my reason [Bm]must al[A]low That [G]I had loved, not [D]as I should, a creature [Bm]made of [A]clay When the [D]angel woos the clay, he'd [G]lose, his [D]wings at the [G]dawn of [D]day * Alternate: [D] [C] [G] [F] [Bm] [Am] [A] [G]