Francis thompson the hound of heaven. The Hound of Heaven: The Story of Francis Thompson & Modern Adaptation 2022-10-28
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Francis Thompson was a 19th-century English poet and mystic who is best known for his poem "The Hound of Heaven," which explores the theme of divine pursuit.
Born in 1859 in Preston, Lancashire, Thompson was a sickly and impoverished young man who struggled with addiction and poverty throughout much of his life. Despite these challenges, he was a deeply spiritual and reflective person, and his poetry often reflects his search for meaning and connection with the divine.
"The Hound of Heaven" is Thompson's most famous and enduring work, and it is a powerful and moving meditation on the nature of faith and the pursuit of God. In the poem, Thompson describes God as a hound who relentlessly pursues the speaker, even as the speaker tries to escape and hide from Him. The speaker's efforts to evade God are ultimately futile, as the hound of heaven is always present, waiting for the speaker to turn towards him and embrace him.
Throughout the poem, Thompson uses vivid and evocative imagery to convey the speaker's sense of desperation and longing as he tries to escape the hound's pursuit. The hound is described as a "white-fanged terror," and the speaker is filled with a sense of terror and dread as he tries to run away. However, despite the speaker's attempts to flee, the hound remains ever-present, a symbol of the unyielding and loving pursuit of God.
In the end, the speaker comes to understand that he cannot escape the hound of heaven, and he surrenders to God's love and grace. The poem ends with the speaker finding peace and acceptance, as he realizes that the hound of heaven has always been with him, guiding him towards a deeper understanding of the divine.
Overall, "The Hound of Heaven" is a beautifully written and deeply moving poem that speaks to the universal human experience of seeking meaning and connection with the divine. Thompson's use of vivid imagery and his deep spiritual insights make this poem a timeless classic that continues to inspire and uplift readers today.
Poem: The Hound of Heaven by Francis Thompson
I in their delicate fellowship was one. With them joyed and was bereaven. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. . Is my gloom, after all, Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly? Even the linked fantasies in whose blossomy twist, I swung the Earth, a trinket at my wrist, Have yielded, cords of all too weak account, For Earth, with heavy grief so overplussed.
His selected prose includes Health and Holiness and The Life of Saint Ignatius. Francis Thompson It is a poem about God's relentless pursuit of the human soul that is known and recited worldwide. Dante had had his Commedia's allegory speak of a great Hound who would come and chase away the sins of the Three Beasts, Leopard, Lion, Wolf, the sins of Lechery, Pride, Avarice, of Youth, Prime, and Age. He did see them, and wrote to the editor giving his address at a chemist's shop. It was not altogether absent.
I turned me to them very wistfully; But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. And slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep. It was thought that he might pursue the priesthood, but his frail health precluded it. In 1888, Thompson sent a tattered and torn manuscript to the Catholic periodical Merry England. The most massive star of the Milky Way is not so wonderful as the smallest human child.
I tempted all His servitors, but to find My own betrayal in their constancy, In faith to Him their fickleness to me, Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit. Halts by me that Footfall. Francis Thompson died, after receiving all the sacraments, in the excellent care of the Sisters of St. Still with unhurrying chase, And unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, Came on the following Feet, And a Voice above their beat — "Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me. He was employed as bookselling agent, and at a shoemaker's, but very briefly, and became a wanderer in London streets, earning a few pence by selling matches and calling cabs, often famished, often cold, receiving occasional alms; on one great day finding a sovereign on the footway, he was requested to come no more to a public library because he was too ragged. In his eulogy for Thompson, G.
He was nevertheless able to compose a little -- "Dream-Tryst", written in memory of a child, and "Paganism Old and New", with a few other pieces of verse and prose. The Hound of Heaven: The Story of Francis Thompson is a compelling documentary that tells the human story behind the poem. A doctor's care, and some months at Storrington, Sussex, where he lived as a boarder at the Premonstratensian monastery, gave him a new hold upon life. Yea, faileth now even dream The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist; Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist, Are yielding; cords of all too weak account For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed. I slept, methinks, and woke, And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep. I tempted all His servitors, but to find My own betrayal in their constancy, In faith to Him their fickleness to me, Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit. That Voice is round me like a bursting Sea: And is thy Earth so marred, Shattered in shard on shard? Rise, clasp my hand, and come.
Thank you and I pray all those who visit here will be abundantly blessed. It is due, not to slovenliness, but to the strange places and circumstances under which it has been written. I pleaded, outlaw-wise, By many a hearted casement, curtained red, Trellised with intertwining charities; For, though I knew His love Who followed, Yet was I sore a dread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside. The book was well-received. But, if one little casement parted wide, The gust of His approach would clash it to: Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue. In "Sister Songs" he celebrated his affection for the two elder of the little daughters of his host and more than brother; "Love in Dian's Lap" was written in honour of Mrs. Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.
Eugene O'Neill could recite Francis Thompson's "Hound of Heaven" from memory, and J. Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me. Wishing to please his father, he entered Owens College now the University of Manchester to study medicine at the age of eighteen but loathed the coursework and eventually quit. Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee, Save Me, save only Me? They paid for two years of treatment at Our Lady of England Priory, Storrington. Francis Thompson 1859-1907 Francis Thompson was born in Northwest England in 1859.
Francis Thompson went to London, and there endured three years of destitution that left him in a state of incipient disease. Yeah, faileth now even dream the dreamer and the lute, the lutanist. This Site is placed under the Patronage of my many favourite Saints and especially, St Paul. Ignatius" and "Health and Holiness" were produced subsequently. Those shaken mists a space unsettle, Then round the half-glimpse d turrets, slowly wash again.
I slept, methinks, and woke, And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep. Strange, piteous, futile thing! Nigh and nigh draws the chase, with unperturbe d pace Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, And past those noise d feet, a Voice comes yet more fleet: Lo, nought contentst thee who content'st nought Me. But not 'ere Him who summoneth I first have seen, enwound With glooming robes purpureal; Cypress crowned. I fled Him down the nights and down the days I fled Him down the arches of the years I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears I hid from him, and under running laughter. As a result of ill health and subsequent medical treatment, like many before him, Thompson became addicted to opium. Wilfrid and Alice Meynell, the magazine's editors, spotted his promise, hunted him down, and took him under their wing. Such is; what is to be? But just that thou might'st seek it in my arms.
