Category Archives: Francis Thompson

To A Child – Francis Thompson

Whenas my life shall time with funeral tread The  heavy death-drum of the beaten hours, Following, sole mourner, mine own manhood dead, Poor forgot corse, where not a maid strows flowers; When I you love am no more I you … Continue reading

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To a Poet Breaking Silence – Francis Thompson

Too wearily had we and song Been left to look and left to long, Yea, song and we to long and look, Since thine acquainted feet forsook The mountain where the Muses hymn For Sinai and the Seraphim. Now in … Continue reading

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What Shall I Your True Love Tell – Francis Thompson 

*  What shall I your true love tell,  Earth forsaking maid?  What shall I your true love tell  When life’s spectre’s laid?  “Tell him that, our side the grave,  Maid may not believe  Life should be so sad to have,  … Continue reading

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To a Snowflake – Francis Thompson

What heart could have thought you?  — Past our devisal  (O filigree petal!)  Fashioned so purely,  Fragilely, surely,  From what Paradisal  Imagineless metal,  Too costly for cost?  Who hammered you, wrought you,  From argentine vapor? —  “God was my shaper.  Passing … Continue reading

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The Hound of Heaven – Francis Thompson

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, … Continue reading

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Beginning of End – Francis Thompson 

She was aweary of the hovering Of Love’s incessant tumultuous wing; Her lover’s tokens she would answer not– ‘Twere well she should be strange with him somewhat: A pretty babe, this Love,–but fie on it, That would not suffer her … Continue reading

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Before her Portraits in Youth – Francis Thompson 

As lovers, banished from their lady’s face And hopeless of her grace, Fashion a ghostly sweetness in its place, Fondly adore Some stealth-won cast attire she wore, A kerchief or a glove: And at the lover’s beck Into the glove … Continue reading

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