Francis Thompson Poems

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
...

It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,
Though my own red roses there may blow;
It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,
Though the red roses crest the caps, I know.
...

The kingdom of God is within you

O world invisible, we view thee,
O world intangible, we touch thee,
...

Where the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf,
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill--
O breath of the distant surf!--
...

I fear to love thee, Sweet, because
Love's the ambassador of loss;
White flake of childhood, clinging so
To my soiled raiment, thy shy snow
...

What heart could have thought you? --
Past our devisal
(O filigree petal!)
Fashioned so purely,
...

The hunchèd camels of the night
Trouble the bright
And silver waters of the moon.
The Maiden of the Morn will soon
...

*


What shall I your true love tell,
...

As lovers, banished from their lady's face
And hopeless of her grace,
Fashion a ghostly sweetness in its place,
Fondly adore
...

To Monica

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
...