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Francis Thompson

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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.
--
St. 1.

 
Francis Thompson

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Upon a darkened night the flame of love was burning in my breast
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Upon a darkened night the flame of love was burning in my breast
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I have fled in the shape of a raven of prophetic speech,
in the shape of a satirizing fox,
in the shape of a sure swift,
in the shape of a squirrel vainly hiding.
I have fled in the shape of a red deer,
in the shape of iron in a fierce fire,
in the shape of a sword sowing death and disaster,
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The days of peace and slumberous calm are fled.

 
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I once knew a girl
In the years of my youth
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All beauty and truth
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