The Hound of Heaven

written by Francis Thompson
adapted by Gina Etherton

I fled Him down the nights and down the days.

I fled Him down the arches of the years

I fled Him down the labyrinth ways

                      of my own mind and in the mist of tears.

I hid from Him even under running laughter

          up vistaed hopes I sped

          and then down glooms of chasmed fears.

Running from those strong Feet that followed after

          with an unhurried pace,

          deliberate speed & majestic presence,

those Feet and a Voice beat—

          a beat more constant than the Feet—

that said, “All things betray you, you who betray Me.”

I clung to every shallow friend,

the whistling mane of every wind.

Across the world I fled,

troubling the gateway of the stars

          seeking the shelter of their clanged bars

          chained to melodious songs,

          slave to every cultural tune.

Their treacherous trueness and their loyal deceit

Kept me ahead of the tread of His Feet—

          still with unhurried chase & unperturbed pace

          deliberate speed & majestic presence,

Came the following Feet

And a Voice above their beat—“Nothing will shelter you, you who will not shelter me.”

I know the significance of the willful state of my demise—

          of the welcome face of dame & skies.

I sought rest & peace in delicate fellowship—

          first with one and then with nature.

My own moods rose and fell with the changeling gathered—

I triumphed and saddened with all weather—

          Heaven & I wept together.

But never did either bless my thirsting soul—

The night draws near and the chase goes on—

          with unperturbed pace,

          deliberate speed & majestic presence,

And past those noisy Feet

a Voice comes yet more fleet—

          “Lo, nothing will content you, who is not content with Me.”

Finally, I am utterly defenseless & stricken to my knees.

I pulled my life around me, grimey with smears.

I stand amid the dust of wasted years,

my mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.

my days have crackled and gone up in smoke—

          and fail me now

          as if a bad dream.

Now in that long pursuit

comes the Hand of the brute…

That Voice is round me like a bursting sea—

          “And is your world so marred

          shattered—shard on shard?

          Lo, all things fly thee, now fly to Me.”

Finally, I can flee no more

          I yield to Love’s open door

          I said to the Voice:

          The prize You sought for so long is finally Yours.

          in dark & gloom, You have hounded me

          for so long  now that I cannot see.

          I surrender all those things You’ve taken from me.

Came back the Voice,

          “I only wanted You to seek them in my all.

          The dark and gloom you said you could no longer stand

          was after all the shadow of my Loving Hand.

          How little worthy of My Love could anyone be?

             Who else could ever love you, save only Me?”