Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.023 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

Fancy, Farewell

by Sir Edward Dyer

0.2555 + 0.2382i

Drawing the boundary…

A Year Ago

by Philip Bourke Marston

0.2323 + 0.2346i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

Fancy, Farewell

by Sir Edward Dyer

Fancy, farewell, that fed my fond delight;
Delight, adieu, the cause of my distress;
Distress, adieu, that dost me such despite;
Despite, adieu, for death doth lend redress.
And death, adieu, for though I thus be slain,
In thy despite I hope to live again.

Sweet heart, farewell, whose love hath wrought my woe;
And farewell, woe, that wearied hast my wits;
And farewell, wit, which will bewitchëd so;
And farewell, will, O full of frantic fits.
Franzy, farewell, whose force I feel too sore,
And farewell, feeling, for I feel no more.

And life, adieu, that I have lived and loathed,
And farewell, love, that makest me loathe my life;
Both love and life, farewell unto you both;
Twixt hope and dread, farewell, all foolish strife.
Folly, farewell, which I have fancied so,
And farewell, fancy, that first wrought my woe.

A Year Ago

by Philip Bourke Marston

A year ago, beloved! Who shall say 
What smiles and tears were ours a year ago? 
Last year my heart was fain its love to show; 
Then had I songs to sing, and prayers to pray, 
And dreams to dream, in dawns and twilights gray, — 
Dreams of love's heaven, that I came to know 
For passionate realities; and, lo! 
Realities turn back to dreams to-day. 

O thou, my love, my saviour, living yet! 
I stand with folded hands before the gates, — 
Dark doors, whereof Death hath alone the key. 
So, with strained ear to iron gratings set, 
His term of bondage spent, some prisoner waits 
The word that, long delayed, shall make him free. 

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