Loreena McKennitt - Raglan Road - Celtic Lyrics Corner.

The Queen of Hearts still making tarts And I not making hay. Oh, I loved too much by such, by such Is happiness blown 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 dark hair, Like clouds over fields of May.

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 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. On.

Raglan Road D G D G D On Raglan Road on an Autumn day I saw her first and knew G D Bm D A that her dark hair would weave a snare that I would some day rue G D Bm D A I saw the danger yet I walked along the enchanted way D G D G D and I said 'Let grief be a falling leaf at the dawning of the day On Grafton Street in November we walked lightly along the ledge of a deep ravine where can be seen.

The queen of hearts still baking tarts And I not making hay, For I loved too much; by such and such Is happiness thrown away. I gave he the gifts of the mind. I gave he 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 him reams of poems to say With his own dark hair and his own name there Like the clouds over.

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 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 On a.

On Raglan Road of 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 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.

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.