The Collected Poems of Roy Campbell

Roy Campbell

• Publisher: Rare Treasure Editions
• Year: 2021
• eBook ISBN: 9781774644287
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Poetry
• Index: Literature

Ignatius Royston Dunnachie Campbell, better known as Roy Campbell, was a South African poet and satirist. He was considered by T. S. Eliot, Dylan Thomas and Edith Sitwell to have been one of the best poets of the period between the First and Second World Wars. Here are his collected poems all under one volume!

[v]

To Mary

[vi]

This volume represents all my published verse which is not actually under revision. Acknowledgements are due to Messrs. Faber and Faber, Ltd., for permission to reprint Adamastor and some poems from Talking Bronco, and to Messrs. Jonathan Cape, Ltd., for permission to reprint The Flaming Terrapin and The Wayzgoose.

R. C.

[vii]

[13]

Lyrical

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[15]

Dedication to Mary Campbell

When in dead lands where men like brutish herds Rush to and fro by aimless frenzies borne, Firing a golden fusillade of words, Lashing his laughter like a knotted scourge, A poet of his own disdain is born And dares among the rabble to emerge— His humble townsfolk sicken to behold This monstrous changeling whom they schooled in vain, Who brings no increase to their hoard of gold, Who lives by sterner laws than they have known And worships, even where their idols reign, A god superbly stronger than their own. Accursèd in the temples of the Pagan His evil fame is borne on every wind: His name is thundered by the priests of Dagon And all Philistia whispers with the plot To shear his sleeping head, his eyes to blind, And chain his ankle to a trundling shot; For That which o’er their cities far-espied Decreed his spirit like a torch to shine Has fired him with the peacock’s flaunting pride Who still would fan his embers to a blaze Though it were but to startle grunting swine Or herds of sleepy cattle to amaze. Insulting their dull sense with gorgeous dyes, The matador of truth, he trails his scorn Before their lowered horns and bloodshot eyes— For never can their stubborn necks be tamed Until they know how laughter must be borne And learn to look on beauty unashamed. [16] Even this were victory, though by his foes On every side with plunging hoofs beset, Reeling at last beneath their leaden blows, Behind some heap of filth he should be flung Whereon the spider spreads his dusty net And the cold viper hatches out her young. But when the Muse or some as lovely sprite, Friend, lover, wife, in such a form as thine, Thrilling a mortal frame with half her light And choosing for her guise such eyes and hair As scarcely veil the subterfuge divine, Descends with him his lonely fight to share— He knows his gods have watched him from afar, And he may take her beauty for a sign That victory attends him as a star, Shaped like a Valkyrie for his delight In lovely changes through the day to shine And be the glory of the long blue night. When my spent heart had drummed its own retreat, You rallied the red squadron of my dreams, Turning the crimson rout of their defeat Into a white assault of seraphim Inv...

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• The Collected Poems of ROY CAMPBELL
• The Collected Poems of ROY CAMPBELL