Okay, I admit it. I own a book of poetry. Several in fact. I actually put down my hard-earned money to buy a book of poems. And occasionally, not near as often as I should, I open the books and read a poem or two. Sometimes it’s Wordsworth. Sometimes Browning. Sometimes Frost. Sometimes it’s just a silly rhyme by Anon. I have even written a few lines myself.
Poetry is not always easy to read. Some poets possess vocabularies and imaginations that are far superior to mine. Some poems make me laugh. Some make me cry. But the best make be think. Contemplate. Meditate.
Such is my favorite poem, The Hound of Heaven by Francis Thompson. In real life the poet started out to be a priest then gave that up to become a doctor, then gave that up to be a poet. But poets did not make much money, so Thompson found himself a homeless man living on the streets. He became addicted to opium and wrote poems on borrowed paper. In his heart he was running away from God.
This poem, first published in 1893, is an alagorical biography of Thompson himself. In the poem a man is pursued by a large dog. The man is afraid that if he befriends the dog, his life will be consumed by the dog and he will never find happiness. It is really about a person who is pursue by a loving God who wants only that the person find true happiness.
Eventually, Thompson is reconcilled to God and finds the happiness he ran from. I have never lived on the streets or suffered from drug addiction, but I know what it is to be pursued, overtaken, and loved by God.
Here are the first lines of Thompson’s most famous poem:
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 mist of tears
I hid from him, and under running laughter….
Contemplate. Meditate. Think.
