The coming of love :: :: University of Virginia Library

The coming of love

Rhona Boswell's story and other poems: By Theodore Watts-Dunton

Watts-Dunton, Theodore (1832-1914)

[dedication]

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VII. “KISSING THE MAY BUDS.”

(Rhona, half-hidden by the branches of a hawthorn tree, is stretching up to kiss the white and green may buds.)
PERCY.
(Looking at her.)
Can this be she, who, on that fateful day
When Romany knives leapt out at me like stings,
Hurled back the men, who shrank like stricken things
From Rhona's eyes, whose lightnings seemed to slay?
Can this be she, half-hidden in the may,

Kissing the buds for “luck o' love” it brings,
While from the dingle-grass the skylark springs,
And merle and mavis answer finch and jay? (He goes up to the hawthorn, pulls the branches apart and clasps her in his arms.)

Can she here covering with her childish kisses
These pearly buds—can she so soft, so tender,
So shaped for clasping—dowered of all love-blisses—
Be my fierce girl whose love for me would send her,
An angel storming hell, through death's abysses,
Where never a sight could fright or power bend her?

“It's nice to see Rhona on a summer mornin', kissin' the may buds for ‘luck o' love,’ as us Romanies say.” —Sinfi Lovell.