Poems by Francis Thompson
Any Saint
... Stoop, stoop; for thou dost fear ...
Assumpta Maria
... Dead that we die not, stooped to rear us, ...
Love's Almsman Plaineth His Fare
... Though I should touch yours careless for a year, ...
The End Of It
... Her own self-will made void her own self's will ...
Nocturn
... And when he stirs, she stirs in her repose: ...
My Lady The Tyranness
... Woods, Fields, hills, all yours, all yours! ...
Grace Of The Way
... Damned by what, reverenced, had redeemed ...
From The Night Of Forebeing
... Like cataracts that with thunderous hoof charge the disbanding snow ...
Messages
... "Tell him--love, with speech at strife, ...
The Making Of Viola
... All things being accomplished, saith the Father of Heaven ...
A Sunset
... Then mark you how there hangs athwart the firmament's swept track ...
A Judgment In Heaven
... irised bow - "Take, Princess Mary, of thy good grace, * two spirits greater than ...
After Her Going
... Methinks, throughout the world 'twere right ...
To My Godchild-Francis M. W. M.
... With you the roseal lightnings burning 'mid their hair ...
Her Portrait
... What of her thoughts, high marks for mine own thoughts to reach ...
