Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.089 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.

Sweet, if you like and love me still

by Francis Davison

0.5925 − 0.1687i

Drawing the boundary…

O fly not, Pleasure

by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

0.6098 − 0.2558i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Sweet, if you like and love me still

by Francis Davison

Sweet if you like and love me stil,
And yeeld me love my good wil,
And do not from your promise start
When your fair hand gave me your hart,
If dear to you I be,
As you are dear to me,
Then yours I am, and wil be ever,
No time nor place my love shall sever,
But faithfull still I will persever,
Like constant Marble stone,
Loving but you alone.

But if you favour moe than one,
(Who loves thee still, and none but thee,)
if others do the harvest gaine,
that's due to me for all my paine:
yet that you love to range,
and oft to chop and change,
then get you some new fangled mate:
My doting love shal turne to hate,
Esteeming you (though too late)
Not worth a peble stone,
Loving not me alone.

O fly not, Pleasure

by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

O fly not, Pleasure, pleasant-hearted Pleasure;
Fold me thy wings, I prithee, yet and stay:
For my heart no measure
Knows, nor other treasure
To buy a garland for my love to-day.

And thou, too, Sorrow, tender-hearted Sorrow,
Thou gray-eyed mourner, fly not yet away:
For I fain would borrow
Thy sad weeds to-morrow,
To make a mourning for love's yesterday.

The voice of Pity, Time's divine dear Pity,
Moved me to tears: I dared not say them nay,
But passed forth from the city,
Making thus my ditty
Of fair love lost for ever and a day.

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