Raglan Road

On raglan road on an autumn day,
I saw 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.
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.
I gave her the gifts of the mind.
I gave her the secret sign
Thats known to all the artists who have
Known true gods of sound and time.
With word and tint I did not stint.
I gave her reams of poems to say
With her own dark hair and her own name there
Like the 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,
For I have wooed, not as I should
A creature made of clay.
When the angel woos the clay, hell lose
His wings at the dawn of the day.

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On Raglan Road

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.

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 -
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness 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 for 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 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 day.

poem by Patrick KavanaghReport problemRelated quotes
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New York... Not In Autum

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Days Like This...Remind Me Of You

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.


poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Only On This Day...

For: J.L.

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Autumn...Will Never Be The Same

FOR: J.L. With Love

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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The Day...Was You

It was a cool, July, and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive? Snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn...Autumn...
Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or has the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.


©Joe Fazio

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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A Day Like No Other...

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Autumn In July (rated in group)

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Autumn In July

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Mid July? Or Not

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Autumn In July

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Waldon Pond ProductionsReport problemRelated quotes
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That Autumn Day In Mid July.

It was a cool July and it was dusk.
The gentle winds that blew,
brushed the Autumn of your hair.

And a mist, as like in Autumn, touch
your face, as I stood still.
For: J.L.
The first thing I thought of on this
day was you.
_________________________________________ _

I could not help but wonder, as in Autumn,
are the bees yet in their hive; snuggled
closely, in their Autumn winter bed.?

An Autumn sun, hid behind the clouds above.
It knew not of this July, only of Autumn, in the air.
It knew of flowers drooping, their brightness,
now fading and curled. It knew of falling leaves,
and colors still so bright. A lone tree against a colored
sky, seemed naked in this July. With all of
this, and some to go, it must be Autumn, for this I know.

What of the woman, with the hair of Autumn?
Her eyes of Autumn color and colored clothes
the same. It can not be July, for
Autumn is abound.

Autumns every where. Circling sparrows in sky
above, swoop down, in hunt, for the final seeds
of Autumn. How could this be July,
or have the sparrows lost their way?

Surely, this is Autumn, for the chill is in they air.
And, isn't that an Autumn grass, below that
old oak tree? As the gentle Autumn winds,
carry silence for the day.

Now the mist of Autumn, are falling drops of rain.
No, not a shower in July, but an Autumn day,
now cast in gloom, against a steel gray sky.

Autumn, shall never be the same, since
that Autumn day in mid July.

poem by Joe FazioReport problemRelated quotes
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Weave Your Spell

Last night when you spoke to me
Emotion in your voice
You said that you gave to me
A very simple choice
I could leave you ...
And go wandering on my own
Or believe in you ...
Never leave you all alone
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay
When you met me I was wild
"The Spider and the Fly"
Your affections made me smile
I didn't have to try
But then you tamed me...
never blamed me for my pride
And you aimed to ...
Find the real me deep inside
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay
Now I'm feeling like a change
You say that I don't care
But when I look across the way
It's always greener there
If I leave you ...
I may never have the choice
To come back to ...
All the loving that you gave unceasingly
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay

song performed by by Level 42Report problemRelated quotes
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Wave Your Spell

Last night when you spoke to me
Emotion in your voice
You said that you gave to me
A very simple choice
I could leave you ...
And go wandering on my own
Or believe in you ...
Never leave you all alone
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay
When you met me I was wild
The spider and the fly
Your affections made me smile
I didnt have to try
But then you tamed me...
Never blamed me for my pride
And you aimed to ...
Find the real me deep inside
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay
Now Im feeling like a change
You say that I dont care
But when I look across the way
Its always greener there
If I leave you ...
I may never have the choice
To come back to ...
All the loving that you gave unceasingly
Weave your spell for one more day
You enchanted me to stay

song performed by by Level 42Report problemRelated quotes
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Sonnet LXXVIII: Body's Beauty

Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
And, subtly of herself contemplative,
Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flowers; for where
Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
Lo! as that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went
Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.

poem by Dante Gabriel RossettiReport problemRelated quotes
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Katherine Mansfield

There was a Child Once

There was a child once.
He came to play in my garden;
He was quite pale and silent.
Only when he smiled I knew everything about him,
I knew what he had in his pockets,
And I knew the feel of his hands in my hands
And the most intimate tones of his voice.
I led him down each secret path,
Showing him the hiding-place of all my treasures.
I let him play with them, every one,
I put my singing thoughts in a little silver cage
And gave them to him to keep...
It was very dark in the garden
But never dark enough for us. On tiptoe we walked
among the deepest shades;
We bathed in the shadow pools beneath the trees,
Pretending we were under the sea.
Once--near the boundary of the garden--
We heard steps passing along the World-road;
O how frightened we were!
I whispered: "Have you ever walked along that road?"
He nodded, and we shook the tears from our eyes....

There was a child once.
He came--quite alone--to play in my garden;
He was pale and silent.
When we met we kissed each other,
But when he went away, we did not even wave

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The Road I Travel

With in my mind, I thought I knew
That I dare not travel back,
This road so dark, dim, and blue,

With trees, ever changing of truth.
This familiar path, so like a knack,
Within my mind. I thought I knew

The way down it and what I’ll do,
But all my thoughts seemed to lack
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

I tried to stray, to part from you,
With your spiteful cement, all black,
Within my mind. I thought I knew.

But I cannot, I won’t sort through
The sky of lies that make and crack
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

So vain, yet suddenly true.
To this place, I still travel back,
Within my mind. I thought I knew
This road so dark, dim, and blue.

poem by Sarah2 McMahonReport problemRelated quotes
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In Walks Love Again

(robert palmer)
We asked all our friends
Where would this desire lead?
Spoke to each others hearts
Willed it not to be a dream
What would it take
But two in tune imaginations?
It was too late to pretend it wasnt real
When in walked love again
Cooler than youve ever seen
In walked love again
Showing us how it should be
We were sure, this time
That we knew where one another stood
Love runs its own course
Too late to change it
If we could
Still questions came
Now we were faced with trusting danger
We caught the blame
Could we let each other go?
When in walked love again
Smiling like a lover can
In walked love again
There you are and here I am
In walked love again
My woman said: can you take it?
I said to her: we can make it, yeah
In walked love again
Cooler than youve ever seen
In walked love again
Showin us how it should be
In walked love again
Smilin like a lover can
In walked love again
There you are and here I am
In walked love again
Walkin again
In walked love again
Walkin again
In walked love again
Chasin after you and me
In walked love again
Braver than our wildest dreams

song performed by by Robert PalmerReport problemRelated quotes
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Walt Whitman

Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life

WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!
Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come;
Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight
weave in!
Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant
weave! tire not!
(We know not what the use, O life! nor know the aim, the end--nor
really aught we know;
But know the work, the need goes on, and shall go on--the death-
envelop'd march of peace as well as war goes on;)
For great campaigns of peace the same, the wiry threads to weave;
We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.

poem by Walt WhitmanReport problemRelated quotes
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Danger

There is danger atop our heads;
There is danger around us all;
There is danger beneath our feet;
There is danger to man and beast!

There is danger in the skies;
There is danger in the seas;
There is danger ev’n on land;
There is danger to man and beast!

There is danger from earth’s bowels;
There is danger in forests;
There is danger in hills, vales;
There is danger to man and beast!

There is danger from our brethren;
There is danger from kith, kin;
There is danger from strangers;
There is danger to man and beast!

There is danger within us;
There is danger from space;
There is danger to our soul;
Nevertheless, God protects us.

poem by John CelesReport problemRelated quotes
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