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Campbell: A Veld Eclogue
The heroes of Bull-hoek and Bondleswaart
Should not be backward in the field of art.
Come—the Jew's-harp!—I'll thrum it while you sing,
Arise, and soar on music's golden wing!
JOHNNY
A simple goat was in her owners blest.
They milked her twice a day, then let her rest:
No wrangling rose between them—all was fair—
Which owned the head, or tail, they did not care:
Think not that I on racial questions touch
For one was British and the other Dutch.
So Johnny sang. His song was brief and true—
Had Creswell, Smuts or Hertzog half his nous,
There would be far more goats on the Karroo
And far less in the Senate and the House.
ROY CAMPBELL,
ON SOME SOUTH AFRICAN NOVELISTS
You praise the firm restraint with which they write—
I'm with you there, of course:
They use the snaffle and the curb all right,
But where's the bloody horse?
ROY CAMPBELL
ON PROFESSOR DRENNAN'S VERSE
Who forced the Muse to this alliance?
A Man of more degrees than parts—
The jilted Bachelor of Science
And Widower of Arts.
ROY CAMPBELL
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