Francis Thompson

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Francis Thompson
Francis Thompson (December 18, 1859 – November 13, 1907) was an English poet and ascetic. After attending college, he moved to London to become a writer, but in menial work, became addicted to opium, and was a street vagrant for years. A married couple read his poetry and rescued him, publishing his first book, Poems in 1893. Francis Thompson lived as an unbalanced invalid in Wales and at Storrington, but wrote over 3 books of poetry, with other works and essays, before dying of tuberculosis in 1907.

the hound of heaven
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I... [read poem]
hymn on solitude
Hail, mildly pleasing solitude,
Companion of the wise and good;
But, from whose holy, pier... [read poem]
a poem sacred to the memory of sir isaac newton
Shall the great soul of Newton quit this earth,
To mingle with his stars; and every muse,
... [read poem]
rule britannia
When Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the c... [read poem]
the seasons: summer
From brightening fields of ether fair-disclos'd,
Child of the sun, refulgent Summer comes,... [read poem]
the seasons: winter
See, Winter comes to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train--
Vap... [read poem]
the city of dreadful night
As I came through the desert thus it was,
As I came through the desert: All was black,
In ... [read poem]
sunday up the river
Give a man a horse he can ride,
Give a man a boat he can sail;
And his rank and wealth... [read poem]
the carpenter's son
"Here the hangman stops his cart:
Now the best of friends must part.
Fare you well, for il... [read poem]
a shropshire lad, xxxvi
White in the moon the long road lies,
The moon stands blank above;
White in the moon t... [read poem]
loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about th... [read poem]
last poems: xi
Yonder see the morning blink:
The sun is up, and up must I,
To wash and dress and eat a... [read poem]
terence, this is stupid stuff
"Terence, this is stupid stuff:
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much ami... [read poem]
on wenlock edge the wood's in trouble
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it p... [read poem]
when i was one-and-twenty
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas... [read poem]
reveille
Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunris... [read poem]
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