Dr. ShuddhanandaBharati

FrancisThompson

A critical study ofhis life & poetry

ASSAEditions

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Editor’s Notes

The gifted poet Francis Thompson is oneamong the geniuses of the world. His lifewas spent on the streets, sit-outs, in thecold and sun. His words flew in the sky ofwisdom. Just like the Siddhas in India, hehas made the truths felt by his spirit intopoems. They were not of effort, but theflowers of poetry blossomed in his words.

Language skill is not alone enough tounderstand the poems of Thomson. Onehas to dive deep into it like pearl diving, toenjoy that.

The life history of Thompson and his writ-ings are available to the readers in a sweetand easy manner. Kavi Yogi Sri Shud-dhananda Bharati, who has compiled thelife histories and the words of many poets,has researched Thompson also. It tastessweet as we read again and again.

Francis Thompson is one of great poetslike Whitman, Molière, Hugo, Milton,Shelley, Byron, Wordsworth, Tennyson,Browning, Shakespeare, Homer, Virgil,

Goethe and it’s nice to discover his life andhis writings.

A warm thank you to Mr. E. Chelladuraifor his translation from Tamil to English.

It is a real and nice pleasure for me to pres-ent Francis Thompson to you. Thank you,Dr. Shuddhananda Bharati for havingtransmitted Francis Thompson to us. Withthe blessing of Aum Shuddha Shakti Aum.

Christian Piaget

Francis Thompson

Song of Unity

Unite. Unite, Unite, Oh SoulsUnite and play your rolesUnite in mind, unite in heartUnite in whole, unite in partLike words and tunes and sense in songLet East and West unite and live longTrees are many; the grove is oneBranches are many; tree is oneShores are many; sea is oneLimbs are many; body is oneBodies are many; self is oneStars are many; sky is oneFlowers are many; honey is onePages are many; book is oneThoughts are many; thinker is oneTastes are many; taster is oneActors are many; the drama is oneNations are many; the world is oneReligions are many; Truth is oneThe wise are many; Wisdom is oneBeings are many; breath is oneClasses are many; college is oneFind out this One behind the manyThen life shall enjoy peaceful harmony

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Peace Anthem

Peace for all, peace for allFor all the countries peaceJoy for all, joy for allFor all the nations joyA rosy morning peaceA smiling summer joy (Peace for all)

All for each and each for allThis is the golden ruleLife and Light and Love for allFor all that live our love (Peace for all)

Work and food and clothes for allEqual status for allHealth and home and school for allA happy world for all (Peace for all)

No idle rich, no more beggarsAll are equal workersNo more tears, no more fearsThe heart is full of cheers (Peace for all)

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No atom scare, no fat mammonNo room for war demonLike leaves in trees, like rays in the sunWe are one communion,One Divine communion (Peace for all)

The good in you is good for allYour life is life for allThe God in you is God for allYour love is love for all (Peace for all)

For he or she or it or restThis collective life is bestThis Universal Life is bestNorth or South, or East or West (Peace for all)

Peace for plants and birds and beastsFor hills and streams and woodsPeace in Home − land and air and seaDynamic peace we see

Peace for all, peace for all

Immortal Peace for All

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Courage!

The night is through,The chain of slaveryIt is already broken -I am full of courage!

Peace in the morning,A golden sun rises,Like a lion superhumanTo accomplish my dream.

A hopeful smile,Docile as a childWho plays in the infiniteWith a fiery star.

My journey is over;I enjoy time;The universe is my nest,Of eternal spring.

Presentation ofDr. Shuddhananda Bharati

11th May 1897 – 7th March 1990

The wise one to the cosmic ageAlthough more than 90 years old, in hisschool in the south of India, Kavi YogiMaharishi (great divine visionary, wisepoet), Kavi Yogi Swami Dr.ShuddhanandaBharati worked like a young man oftwenty. When he was asked his age, heanswered: “My age is Courage!”

The Yogi wrote several hundred works inEnglish, French, Tamil, Hindi, Telugu andSanskrit; five thousand songs, and fifteenhundred poems in French. The magnumopus of the man conscious of the presenceof God in him, Bharata Shakti, (in 50,000verses) described his ideal: only OneHumanity living in communion with onlyOne God in a transformed world! BharataShakti is a monumental and unique work.The Yogi depicts the essence of all the reli-gions, of all the prophets and saints, all theapproaches of Yoga and all the cultures on

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an allegorical fabric. It is a book for anyage which all spiritual researchers and allnations should read and meditate on.

His commitment is summarized in hisbook celebrating his life, Pilgrim Soul.

The two poems mentioned in the openingexpress perfectly his ideal.

His mantra, Aum Shuddha Shakti Aum,nourishes our souls and guides our stepstoward the inner joy Ananda. It means: thelight of Grace and power of the puresupreme Almighty bless us with peace,happiness and prosperity!

Let the beauty and greatness of soul ofKavi Yogi Maharishi Dr.ShuddhanandaBharati bloom and scent the entire Earthwith its divine message and spiritual andunifying benefactor!

Editions ASSA

Francis Thompson

Gifted Poet Thompson

1. Life and history

Tennyson and Browning were the twogreatest English poets of the past century.After them the one who arose immediatelyon the poetic arena was Francis Thompson.The new poet Thompson was born on16.12.1859 in Preston. His parents weremedicos of Catholic background. Theywanted their son to be a Catholic priest. Sothey put their son in a Catholic seminary atthe age of eleven. There were more restric-tions in the Catholic colleges; disciplinewas considered foremost. Thompson neversubmitted to anything; he wandered at hisown free will. There was a great dividebetween him and religion. The head of thecollege wrote to Thompson’s father: “Yourson is not suitable for religious life; he is notinterested; no discipline; we have sent himaway from the college.’’ The dream of thefather was shattered.

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Now Thompson was eighteen years old.He was not diligent in anything. If he wasput in some job, he used to behave asthough people were to think: “O God, whythey have given him this job?”

Wherever he went he returned with therespect that: “Enough is enough, pleasecan I quit!” Father was very sad. Finally hesent him to Manchester, saying: “Pleasestudy to be a doctor!” There also hebehaved likewise; never touched thebooks; did not concentrate in classes;failed in exams; he wandered like a bullwithout a caretaker. He never mixed withothers and spoke with no one. He roamedof his own free will! With that he pickedup the habit of taking opium. A lad oftwenty years; he spent the money hisfather sent in opium and liquors. If nomoney was at hand he would sell hisbooks; the disheartened father warnedhim saying: “Why are you spoiled likethis?” The son replied angrily: “I will onlybe like this.” Father lost his hope and said:“He will not be good! Let him do whateverhe wants to do.”

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The twenty-year-old Thompson left homeand wandered like a lunatic in the streets ofManchester and London. He did not knowwhat to do, never listened to others, had nojob to do, so was left without money. Noone will offer him even alms! His craze foropium intensified; his friends were hunger,sickness, starvation, laziness, and sorrow.He wandered like this for two and a halfyears. He got a job in a bookstore as acashier, but that did not last long.

At that time poetry oozed out of Thomp-son’s mind like a lotus coming out of mud.Thompson, who usually wandered doingnothing, now started whispering poems.He was still hungry and sick and had ayearning for opium. Poetry came out of hismouth like the lightning came out of terri-ble darkness.Thompson used to write on papers hepicked up from the garbage. He wrote arti-cles and sent them to magazines. They allwent to the dustbin, otherwise they cameback. His poems blossomed lonely like arose among the bushes of wilderness andwere withering without support. Those

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who witnessed him thought: “Crazy man!Blabbering drunk.”

In 1887, he wrote an article to the magazineMerry England, and sent it with a letter:“Dear Sir, Attached is an article at last, toyour magazine on dirty paper. Please for-give; it is not of my carelessness; it symbol-izes my poverty. That shows my poor situ-ation (I have no money to buy paper). Mylife has been spoiled because of my foolishbehaviour. Please do not return this article.I don’t like that; finally at least write to mesaying my article is of no worth; I haveattached a self addressed stamped enve-lope. Even if you do not like my prose, willyou consider my poetry? Still as a finaleffort, I am sending a few poems with this.I send the prose and poems in anticipationthat at least one can be accepted; forgiveme for taking your time.

Yours despairingly,

Francis Thompson

Note: Please send your rejection letter tothe Charing Cross Post Office.”

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One year passed after writing this letter.There was no reply, neither was the articlereturned. One day Thompson casuallysaw the magazine of Merry England. Hejumped for joy. He felt released of all hissufferings henceforth. What happened?One of his poems he sent a year back to themagazine had been published! Immedi-ately he ran to meet the publisher.

The editor of Merry England, Meynell, wasa man who enjoyed poetry. He was gener-ous. One day a man stricken with povertyentered his office. He had no shirt; anovercoat covered his body. The toes of hisfeet penetrated through his shoes. He wasskinny. This tramp is our Thompson!

Meynell did not look at his dress; helooked into the mind from where thepoem flowed out. He felt it. He marvelledat his innocent mind. Thompson had themind of a child. He never knew of his ownworth. Meynell accepted this wonderfulpoor poet and supported him. Thompsonwas in the support of Meynell for 19 years.His poems sprang out like the flowers of

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spring. Meynell compiled all of that as abook, added Thompson’s life history andmade the world know about him. Thegrateful heart of Thompson, dedicated allhis beautiful songs to Wilfred Meynell.Thus Thompson expresses his gratitude:

“The May rose dedicates its beauty to thegardener who nourished it. The goldminededicates its gold deposits to the owner.The glass submits its full wine to thegrapes. The violin submits its music that ishidden in it to the musician. The smile ofthe lips is joy in itself. The scream thatcomes out of mind belongs to the sorrowwithin. The flowers of my poetry areyours. The liberal generous one, I dedicatethis to you”.

Just like the seasonal flowers, the poetry ofThompson blossomed unconsciously. Hewas careless as usual. As the days went byhis affinity towards opium intensified. Inthe final days this blocked his springs ofpoetry. At last Thompson wrote onlyprose. The wicked opium that killed hispoetry swallowed his prose too. On

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13.11.1907 at the age of forty-nine, Thomp-son died at the London Hospital.

Among the books of Thompson, TheHound of Heaven is eternal. That poetryitself is enough to ensure the lasting fameof his poetry. Poems on children, SisterSongs, Love in Dian’s Lap, Sight and Insight,Ultima, A Narrow Vessel, Odes, sonnets etc.,are rich in verse, content and sweetness.Now let us study the poems of Thompsonin comparison with other’s poems.

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