Just before you enter the Raglan Road pub in Downtown Disney there's a bronze statue of the great Irish poet, Patrick Kavanagh sitting on a park bench.
Regarded as one of the foremost poets of the 20th century, Patrick Kavanagh's best known works include the novel Tarry Flynn and the poems Raglan Road (thus the name of the pub) and The Great Hunger. Patrick Kavanagh was often seen relaxing alone on a park bench by the Grand canal in Dublin.
When he passed away in 1967 after a long struggle with lung cancer, he was commemorated with a statue by the banks of the Grand canal in Dublin.
To this day, after every St. Patrick's Day parade you'll find his friends gathering at the bench.
Today, a specially commissioned replica is found right outside The Raglan Road Pub and Restaurant
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
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.
~ Patrick Kavanagh
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I have walked past this a time or two and never thought to find out the history. Thanks so much!
ReplyDeleteI love this poem, I always learn something here Deb. I had no idea who that was on the bench outside Raglan Road or his story, thanks for the 411 :-)
ReplyDeleteHow interesting! I had no idea who that statue was supposed to be! Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing this, Deb! I have often wondered who the statue was. We love to eat at Raglan Road and have taken many photos with him :)
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