The Hound of Heaven                by Francis Thompson (1859-1907)

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 shot, precipitated,

adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,

from those strong Feet that followed, followed after.

But with unhurrying chase, and unperturbèd pace,

deliberate speed, majestic instancy, they beat--and a Voice beat

more instant than the Feet--

"All things betray thee, who betrayest me."…