Francis Thompson

(16 December 1859 – 13 November 1907 / Preston, England)

Francis Thompson Poems

41. Ultimum 4/15/2010
42. Orient Ode 4/15/2010
43. Messages 4/15/2010
44. Epilogue 4/15/2010
45. Any Saint 4/15/2010
46. Against Urania 4/15/2010
47. A Question 4/15/2010
48. Grief's Harmonics 4/15/2010
49. Love Declared 4/15/2010
50. The End Of It 4/15/2010
51. The Heart: Two Sonnets 4/15/2010
52. To The Sinking Sun 4/15/2010
53. The After Woman 4/15/2010
54. The Making Of Viola 4/15/2010
55. House Of Bondage 4/15/2010
56. A Captain Of Song 4/15/2010
57. A Judgment In Heaven 4/15/2010
58. A Fallen Yew 4/15/2010
59. Assumpta Maria 4/15/2010
60. Beneath A Photoraph 4/15/2010
61. Ex Ore Infantium 4/15/2010
62. Go, Songs, For Ended Is Our Brief, Sweet Play 1/1/2004
63. A Dead Astronomer 4/15/2010
64. Heaven And Hell 4/15/2010
65. A Girl's Sin - In His Eyes 4/15/2010
66. An Anthem Of Earth 4/15/2010
67. Envoy 4/15/2010
68. Before Her Portrait In Youth 1/1/2004
69. Gilded Gold 1/1/2004
70. Hermes 4/15/2010
71. To A Poet Breaking Silence 1/1/2004
72. Dream Tryst 1/1/2004
73. An Arab Love-Song 1/3/2003
74. New Year's Chimes 1/3/2003
75. To Olivia 1/3/2003
76. The Mistress Of Vision 4/15/2010
77. Ode To The Setting Sun 4/15/2010
78. What Shall I Your True Love Tell? 1/1/2004
79. To My Godchild-Francis M. W. M. 4/15/2010
80. At Lord's 1/3/2003

Comments about Francis Thompson

  • Jane Nevinger (1/13/2018 5:34:00 PM)

    Francis Thompson’s poetry has such mystical beauty. He is one of my favorite poets.

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Best Poem of Francis Thompson

The Hound Of Heaven

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.
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated
Adown titanic glooms of chasme d hears
From those strong feet that followed, followed after
But with unhurrying chase and unperturbe d pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat, and a Voice beat,
More instant than the feet:
All things betray thee who betrayest me.

I pleaded, outlaw--wise by...

Read the full of The Hound Of Heaven

The Poppy

To Monica

Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there:
Like a yawn of fire from the grass it came,
And the fanning wind puffed it to flapping flame.

With burnt mouth, red like a lion's, it drank
The blood of the sun as he slaughtered sank,

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