Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.011 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.

Grief dies like joy

by Henry Timrod

0.0197 + 0.5957i

Drawing the boundary…

Fond ladds that spend so fast your poasting time

by Giles Fletcher

0.0092 + 0.5962i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Grief dies like joy

by Henry Timrod

Grief dies like joy; the tears upon my cheek
Will disappear like dew. Dear God! I know
Thy kindly Providence hath made it so,
And thank thee for the law. I am too weak
To make a friend of Sorrow, or to wear,
With that dark angel ever by my side
(Though to thy heaven there be no better guide),
A front of manly calm. Yet, for I hear
How woe hath cleansed, how grief can deify,
So weak a thing it seems that grief should die,
And love and friendship with it, I could pray,
That if it might not gloom upon my brow,
Nor weigh upon my arm as it doth now,
No grief of mine should ever pass away.

Fond ladds that spend so fast your poasting time

by Giles Fletcher

Fond ladds that spend so fast your poasting time,
(Too poasting time, that spends your time as fast)
To chaunt light toyes, or frame some wanton rime,
Where idle boyes may glut their lustful tast;
Or else with praise to cloath some fleshly slime
With virgins roses and faire lillies chast;
While itching bloods and youthfull cares adore it;
But wiser men, and once yourselues, will most abhorre it.

But thou (most neere, most deare) in this of thine
Ha'st proov'd the Muses not to Venus bound;
Such as thy matter, such thy Muse, divine;
Or thou such grace with Merci's selfe hast found,
That she herself deign's in thy leaues to shine;
Or stol'n from heav'n, thou broughtst this verse to ground,
Which frights the nummed soule with fearefull thunder,
And soone with honied dewes melts it 'twixt ioy and wonder.

Then doe not thou malitious tongues esteeme;
The glasse, through which an envious eye doth gaze,
Can easily make a mole-hill mountaines seeme:
His praise dispraises, his dispraises, praise;
Enough, if best men best thy labours deem,
And to the highest pitch thy merit raise;
While all the Muses to thy song decree
Victorious Triumph, Triumphant Victorie.

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