Submitted by Andy McIlvain.
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.
Up vistaed hopes I sped…
And so begins “The Hound of Heaven” by Francis Thompson, which has been called “the greatest ode in the English language.” The Hound in the poem is the Lord who continually seeks the writer even though the writer keeps running from Him. Continue reading