The best of the best...read exactly correctly each word. The willow ...softly waved ..bowed and bent toward the HOUND ....each moment..each hour...each day...each year..each decade...ever and ever more to eternity and beyond...... love is... Thank you for sharing such as this...much love....hugs..

One of my favorite poems...I thank God for "hounding me" until I turned and ran into His Open Arms...I pray for my family members to turn around, with unscaled eyes, and see Him who is LOVE.

No words, Johnathan , for your reading of this beautiful poem. You encaptured His pursuit of us beautifully . Thank you !

Bravo!! Not an easy piece to recite! Venerable Bishop Fulton Sheen quoted a line or two from this. I found your reading through a rabbit hole search. Glad I did. I'm in tears. Good tears.

This is the one I've been waiting for

He's so cool and talented.

Excellent

Wow! JR, your reading would have Francis Thompson filled with all the love and passion he had when having written it! You did it justice! Good God stuff! ❣😃✌

Thank you for having Jonathan Roumey read things on your site. He is outstanding in so many ways. He can transmit Jesus easily because he’s filled with the Holy Spirit. Thank you so much I just found all of this and I am now going to really listen more than ever. God bless you all. Thank you so much. This guy is absolutely Chosen from God.

Brilliant, beautiful and passionate reading!!!❤

Always seeking, forever faithful God♥️ Thank you for this heartfelt reading and your passion🙏

Beautiful. Excellent read. My ears need it slower. Thank you Jonathan.

I am doing homework for a class I have on Thursday mornings. It's an in depth look into the Book of Revelation. Homework is usually 2-4 hours a week. I really have to focus on what I'm reading! I took a short break and this came up on my phone! This poem, reminded me a little of The Book of Revelation. Oh what I would give to hear Jonathan read the Book of Revelation. It would make this class so much more enjoyable! Thank you, WOF, and JR!.This was beautiful! ❤️🙏

Extraordinarily powerful.

In a world that is becoming more base everyday...quality beauty. Wow. This is where I want to live

This. Is. Beautiful!!!!! I love it!

OUTSTANDING! Bravo, Jonathan! 👏👏👏 Brilliant reading! And amen that our amazing Lord never stops seeking us! Thank you WOF. So enjoy these!

Wow just wow beautiful words Wonderfully read! Thank you!

Profound poem, beautiful interpretive reading🙏❤️

This sounds like a man's interpretation of the Song of songs. Very well done and recited Mr Roumie! The human condition is what God seeks to captivate! And the many ways we can express and reciprocate...a love so divine! God bless! Thank you for this treat! Thoroughly enjoyed ✌🏼🙏🏼♥️👏🏼

Jonathan, beautifully done! Your emotion truly brings it to life! So much better listening to you than just reading it.❤❤

Absolutely breathtaking!!!! How I love these episodes... Thank you, Jonathan and WOFI. ♥️♥️♥️

Beautifully done, Jonathan! Nothing can separate us from God's love. Like the lost sheep, we may go astray, but He will always pursue us. ❤️

Love this ❤️

Beautiful reading! Also, cheers on the production/sound quality/camera work. Outstanding video 👏👏

This is so beautiful ❤️

STUNNING!

Aww! My favorite poem. Thank you!

This poem is difficult to understand for foreigners but I feel in my heart it is mystical. Thank you Mr Roumie 😊

@Zangiefbeefgrief

6 ай бұрын

this poem has led many of us to God! it is good to enjoy this with you

Beautiful!!

Indeed, the hounding resonates! So grateful He loves us beyond my understanding. He never gives up on anyone! Your range of emotion is so perfectly fluid throughout the reading. Love your reading. ❤🌻

Bravo! ❤️🌹

Beautiful ❤

I always loved poetry but never really got into it, you read it well and I see you put your emotions into it Beautifully done. Thank you.

Wow thank you.

Beautiful 😍

Beautiful to listen to as I prepare to lead some university students on a weekend of silent retreat with the Spiritual Exercises. Thanks Jonathan and WoF!

Great reading Jonathan aka Jesus, I’ve read this poem when I was very young but never heard it read; thanks for expressing the poem in your Jesus voice.

Beautiful reading of this classic poem, whose twisted psychology has always fascinated me. As to why it's been popular to conceptualize God this way, there may never be a clear answer, but it certainly borrows heavily from human neuroses.

Wow this is beautiful just stumbled on this, I love this, bless you ,with love Trish

Are there plans to record these readings on a DVD? English teachers in Christian HS and colleges would benefit from these readings as part of their ancillary materials. The content and the voice of the artist are outstanding. This should be marketed so students can benefit from the beauty of the poetry.

@theculturedbumpkin

8 ай бұрын

Agreed!

WOW!!! 😮❤😊

AMEN. YES.

L loves is movies I beleive in God

Jonathan, your reading rivals that of Richard Burton, another outstanding performer. When you read, I can feel the poem. Incredible reading. Thank you. Blessings

@jonbock4853

Жыл бұрын

I was looking for a comment comparing the two. I agree this rivals Burton.

🙏🏽❤️

Nicely done

That's a hard poem to recite. Good job brother.

Cool

Colbert referenced this in relation to the fox and the priest in Fleabag, I understand why now

Very well done "Jesus" of the Chosen. Until now I didn't even like poetry!

Francis Thompson 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 chasmèd 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.' I pleaded, outlaw-wise, By many a hearted casement, curtained red, Trellised with intertwining charities; (For, though I knew His love Who followèd, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside). But, if one little casement parted wide, The gust of His approach would clash it to. Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue. Across the margent of the world I fled, And troubled the gold gateways of the stars, Smiting for shelter on their clangèd bars; Fretted to dulcet jars And silvern chatter the pale ports o' the moon. I said to Dawn: Be sudden---to Eve: Be soon; With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over From this tremendous Lover--- Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see! I tempted all His servitors, but to find My own betrayal in their constancy, In faith to Him their fickleness to me, Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit. To all swift things for swiftness did I sue; Clung to the whistling mane of every wind. But whether they swept, smoothly fleet, The long savannahs of the blue; Or whether, Thunder-driven, They clanged his chariot 'thwart a heaven, Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet:--- Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue. Still with unhurrying chase, And unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, Came on the following Feet, And a Voice above their beat--- 'Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.' I sought no more that after which I strayed In face of man or maid; But still within the little children's eyes Seems something, something that replies, They at least are for me, surely for me! I turned me to them very wistfully; But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. 'Come then, ye other children, Nature's---share With me' (said I) 'your delicate fellowship; Let me greet you lip to lip, Let me twine with you caresses, Wantoning With our Lady-Mother's vagrant tresses, Banqueting With her in her wind-walled palace, Underneath her azured daïs, Quaffing, as your taintless way is, From a chalice Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring.' So it was done: I in their delicate fellowship was one--- Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies. I knew all the swift importings On the wilful face of skies; I knew how the clouds arise Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings; All that's born or dies Rose and drooped with; made them shapers Of mine own moods, or wailful or divine; With them joyed and was bereaven. I was heavy with the even, When she lit her glimmering tapers Round the day's dead sanctities. I laughed in the morning's eyes. I triumphed and I saddened with all weather, Heaven and I wept together, And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine; Against the red throb of its sunset-heart I laid my own to beat, And share commingling heat; But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart. In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek. For ah! we know not what each other says, These things and I; in sound I speak--- Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences. Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth; Let her, if she would owe me, Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me The breasts o' her tenderness: Never did any milk of hers once bless My thirsting mouth. Nigh and nigh draws the chase, With unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy; And past those noisèd Feet A voice comes yet more fleet--- 'Lo! naught contents thee, who content'st not Me.' Naked I wait Thy love's uplifted stroke! My harness piece by piece Thou hast hewn from me, And smitten me to my knee; I am defenceless utterly. I slept, methinks, and woke, And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep. In the rash lustihead of my young powers, I shook the pillaring hours And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears, I stand amid the dust o' the mounded years--- My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap. My days have crackled and gone up in smoke, Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream. Yea, faileth now even dream The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist; Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist, Are yielding; cords of all too weak account For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed. Ah! is Thy love indeed A weed, albeit an amaranthine weed, Suffering no flowers except its own to mount? Ah! must--- Designer infinite!--- Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust; And now my heart is as a broken fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank thoughts that shiver Upon the sighful branches of my mind. Such is; what is to be? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind? I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds; Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds From the hid battlements of Eternity; Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsèd turrets slowly wash again. But not ere him who summoneth I first have seen, enwound With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned; His name I know, and what his trumpet saith. Whether man's heart or life it be which yields Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields Be dunged with rotten death? Now of that long pursuit Comes on at hand the bruit; That Voice is round me like a bursting sea: 'And is thy earth so marred, Shattered in shard on shard? Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me! Strange, piteous, futile thing! Wherefore should any set thee love apart? Seeing none but I makes much of naught' (He said), 'And human love needs human meriting: How hast thou merited--- Of all man's clotted clay the dingiest clot? Alack, thou knowest not How little worthy of any love thou art! Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee, Save Me, save only Me? All which I took from thee I did but take, Not for thy harms, But just that thou might'st seek it in My arms. All which thy child's mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home: Rise, clasp My hand, and come!' Halts by me that footfall: Is my gloom, after all, Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly? 'Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest, I am He Whom thou seekest! Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.'

WOW! HES SO PASSIONATE! I THINK THAT HES SO BEAUTIFUL I DONT KNOW IF IS BECAUSE HE PLAYED JESUS OR WHAT BUT I CANT SAY, OH HES HOT! I FEEL LIKE IM DOING SOMETHING WRONG BY SAYING THAT! I KNOW THAT ONCE HE PLAYED IN THE CHOSEN HES PROBABLY GOTTEN MORE SPIRITUAL AND CLOSER TO CHRIST JESUS AND OH HOW I THINK THAT IS SOOOOO I DONT EVEN HAVE A WORD FOR IT BECAUSE ITS SO INNOCENT FEELING! I KNOW THAT HES NOT JESUS BUT HE FEELS SO BIBLICAL! I JUST LOVE HIM HE HAS A PURITY ABOUT HIM AND THE POETRY, IM NOT EVEN INTO POETRY! I GUESS THERES A TIME FOR EVERYTHING TO CHANGE! MAY GOD BE WITH ALL OF U AND GOD BLESS! LOVE ALWAYS, UR SISTER IN CHRIST JESUS AMEN 🙏! PRAYERS ALL AROUND! GOD SPEAKS IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS DOESNT HE? I LOVE U LORD GOD AND I HOPE AND PRAY THAT U ARE WATCHING OVER ALL OF UR LOVED ONES THAT ARE SPREADING UR MOST GRACIOUS WORDS AND MAY THEY GET TO SOOOO MANY THAT LEADS THE ENTIRE WORLD TO UR KINGDOM! IN THE BLOOD 🩸 OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST I ASK ALL THESE THINGS AMEN 🙏

I SUSAN dont understand the poem english JONATHAN. . In regular EVERYDAY ENGLISH LOYAL GOD SPELLED BACKWARDS DOG, WHO IS LOYAL AND TRUE ,MANS BEST FRIEND. SO MY HOUND OF HEAVEN PERSUED ME. EXPLAINED TO ME BY A PRIEST. (I WAS OFFENDED THAT JESUS WAS CALLED THAT AT FIRST). SO MY RESPONSIBILITY TO PRAY TO JESUS AS A MOM AND GRANDMA TO JESUS FOR SALVATION OF MY FAMILY . POLISH CARDINAL VACHINSKI SAID A MOTHER CAN SAVE THEIR CHILDS SOUL THRU PRAYER .PRAISE GOD. WITH THE HELP OF MOMMA MARY CANT THINK OF THE TRINITY WITH OUT HER AMEN. PROUD TO KNOW YOU JONATHAN THRU CHOSEN, GOD BLESS AMEN 2nd generation POLISH/ IRISH. AS STRONG AS MY POLISH HERITAGE IS SO IS MY IRISH HERITAGE AND PROUD OF IT.

Honestly, got nothing out of that since I couldn’t understand hardly a thought expressed. As a left-brained, modern American, poetry, even in English is like a foreign tongue from an alien mind. It sounded elegant and profound however.

@moonriversou

9 ай бұрын

Ironically, "As a left-brained, modern American, poetry, even in English is like a foreign tongue from an alien mind" rings like a poem