Francis Thompson and the Hound of Heaven
- innerweavings
- Nov 13, 2019
- 5 min read
"Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, If I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you."
- Psalm 139:7-12
Today Innerweavings remembers the poet Francis Thompson who went home to be with his Savior on November 13, 1907. Though Thompson is especially remembered for his spiritual poetry, his all too brief life was far from the ideal Christian journey - a child of privilege, a failed medical student, a homeless opioid addict, then, at last a poet and child of God. So long and dark was the path he chose, that some researchers have even suspected Thompson of being Jack the Ripper!
Thompson was born in 1859 in Preston, Lancashire, the son of a doctor and raised in a devout home rooted in the Catholic faith. His physician father had great hopes that Francis would follow in his footsteps. However, Francis had neither the ability or the interest. Buckling under the pressure and failing as a medical student, he suffered a complete nervous breakdown. Young Francis then ran away, without a penny to his name, to London.
Thompson may not have possessed the ability to follow his father into the medical profession but he possessed an uncanny ability to write beautifully. He was passionate about poetry in particular, but although he was a brilliant poet, he was unable to support himself in London. Out of sheer necessity he took many odd jobs including selling matches and shining shoes.
His self-inflicted misery due to his poor choices led him to become an opium addict. Thompson ultimately found himself living on the streets of Charing Cross. On the brink of suicide, he was rescued by a prostitute who gave him money, food, and lodging. Thompson never revealed her name but called her his "savior" for showing such compassion.
Although still destitute and ill, Thompson stated that it was only during this time of extreme misery that he could see the kingdom of heaven. It was during his most hopeless time that he was able to be reached by God. These periods of extreme brokenness allowed him to discover a meaningful relationship with the loving God he had rejected in rebelling against his religious upbringing.
In 1888, Thompson sent a weathered manuscript to the Catholic periodical Merry England. Its editors, Wilfrid and Alice Meynell, were poets themselves, but, most importantly, they were devout Christians. The couple not only recognized Thompson's profound abilities as a poet, they also took him into their home and arranged for the publication of his first book.
Thompson soon became known as a Christian writer and a well respected poet. His poems and essays are beautiful, but they also offer profound insight into his unique life story.
The poem for which Thompson is most remembered characterizes his life: The Hound of Heaven. It is an autobiographical narrative that depicts a broken and confused young man who reaps misery after misery upon himself while fleeing from the loving God Who pursues him quietly and persistently on his journey of self destruction. The frantic tone is set from its classic opening lines:
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...
Thompson fled alright! He ran away from everything. He ran away from the expectations of his father and family, from his failures as a medical student and from God Himself. The poem is heart wrenching but also reassuring. Thompson’s continual rejection of God did not stop God’s pursuit of him. I wonder how many of us can identify with Thompson’s rejection of God - with the frantic path of destruction created when fleeing time and time again from the loving embrace of our Savior?
Thanks be to God that Thompson finally surrendered! The last lines of the poem recount this humble conversion and its accompanying peace as the penitent realizes that all the things he felt had been taken from him were only being set in store till the day they were sought from God. Even the dark gloom that seemed to have dogged him was only the shadow of the Almighty's hand providing protection for the wayward prodigal.
But, alas, though there is forgiveness for sin, there can still be consequences. After the years of addiction and hard living, Thompson's health was shattered and he died of tuberculosis at only 47. Though his story is tragic, it is nothing new. But the miraculous conversion in this remarkable poem is as available today as it was to his nineteenth century readers. Our nation is currently gripped by an horrific opioid crisis. As terrible as the drug crisis is, our nation suffers from an even greater affliction. That affliction is a rejection of God, a turning of our face away from loving Creator and his Will. Sadly, the opioid crisis is simply a symptom of the despair many Americans feel in this modern day - a despair often rooted in the rejection of God. I’m guessing that many countless sufferers have embarked on the same path of self destruction as Thompson did more than a century ago. Join us as we pray for them and their families. May we pray that God’s pursuit of them ends in humble surrender, as it did in the life of Francis Thompson, in a great victory where the Hound of Heaven (Almighty God) corners them and comforts them in His loving embrace.
Ironically, as Thompson stated in another of his well known poems, In No Strange Land , he had nothing to really fear from God’s embrace:
“Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter,
Cry,—clinging to Heaven by the hems;
And lo, Christ walking on the water,
Not of Genesareth, but Thames!”
Francis Thompson lost his battle with tuberculosis after his body had been weakened by years of self addicted abuse, but his story doesn’t end there because God pursued him patiently and he surrendered to God completely. With surrender came perfect peace and life everlasting. When I think of the peace Thompson finally found I can’t help but think of a notable quote by Saint Augustine:
“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”
As we commemorate the anniversary of the heavenly homecoming of Francis Thompson , may we pause and pray that the many souls suffering today from addiction and despair hear the gentle but persistent footsteps of the Hound of Heaven and may they find peace in their hearts as well for today and always.
To read the full poem The Hound of Heaven please visit here:
To read the full poem In No Strange Land please visit here:
To hear Sir Richard Burton recite The Hound of Heaven please visit here:
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