Roy Campbell (poet)

"Our spirits leaped, hosannas of destruction, Like desert lilies forked with tongues of fire."

"Translations (like wives) are seldom strictly faithful if they are in the least attractive."

"The frost stings sweetly with a burning kiss As intimate as love, as cold as death."

"We shall not meet again: over the wave Our ways divide, and yours is straight and endless – But mine is short and crooked to the grave: Yet what of these dark crowds, amid whose flow I battle like a rock, aloof and friendless – Are not their generations, vague and endless, The waves, the strides, the feet on which I go?"

"You praise the firm restraint with which they write – Im with you there, of course: They use the snaffle and the curb all right, But wheres the bloody horse?"

"The City of Giraffes!—a People Who live between the earth and skies, Each in his lone religious steeple, Keeping a light-house with his eyes."