"The Hound of Heaven" "marked the return of the nineteenth century to Thomas a Kempis." The great poetry of it transcended, in itself and in its influence, all conventions; so that it won the love of a Catholic Mystic like Coventry Patmore; was included by Dean Beeching in his "Lyra Sacra" among its older high compeers; and gave new heart to quite another manner of man, Edward Burne-Jones. W. M. [Illustration] ILLUSTRATIONS When she lit her glimmering tapers . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ Titanic glooms of chasmed fears Across the margent of the world I fled I said to dawn: Be sudden I knew how the clouds arise Naked I wait Thy love's uplifted stroke! Yea, faileth now even dream The hid battlements of Eternity Whether man's heart or life it be which yields I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside Thunder-driven, They clanged His chariot In her wind-walled palace I shook the pillaring hours And now my heart is as a broken fount That Voice is round me like a bursting sea [Illustration: I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind] THE HOUND OF HEAVEN 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 unperturbed pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat--and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet-- "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me." [Illustration]