Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.035 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.

The Little Beach-Bird

by Richard Henry Dana

−0.5903 − 0.3851i

Drawing the boundary…

Light in Darkness

by Daniel Webster Davis

−0.5873 − 0.4201i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Little Beach-Bird

by Richard Henry Dana

Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea,
Why takest thou its melancholy voice,
And with that boding cry
Why o'er the waves dost fly?
O, rather, bird, with me
Through the fair land rejoice!

Thy flitting form comes ghostly dim and pale,
As driven by a beating storm at sea;
Thy cry is weak and scared,
As if thy mates had shared
The doom of us. Thy wail,—
What doth it bring to me?

Thou call'st along the sand, and haunt'st the surge
Restless and sad; as if, in strange accord
With the motion and the roar
Of waves that drive to shore,
One spirit did ye urge—
The Mystery—the Word.

Of thousands, thou, both sepulcher and pall,
Old Ocean! A requiem o'er the dead,
From out thy gloomy cells,
A tale of mourning tells,—
Tells of man's woe and fall,
His sinless glory fled.

Then turn thee, little bird, and take thy flight
Where the complaining sea shall sadness bring
Thy spirit nevermore.
Come, quit with me the shore,
For gladness and the light,
Where birds of summer sing.

Light in Darkness

by Daniel Webster Davis

Though dark the night, my brother,
And dreary clouds bedeck the evening sky;
No star appears, and cold the wind doth blow,
The night must pass; and then,
The morning comes apace.

What though 'tis dark, my brother,
Canst thou not look beyond the stygian gloom;
See one faint ray of hope to lighten up
The darkness of the sky?
And still canst see His face?

God is not dead, my brother,
On Him my soul in faith will lean,
In darkest hour, if he but light the way
No fear can chill, for still
His mighty arm can save.

I only fear the wrong, my brother,
With God and right I breathe defiance bold
To every foe: for we can battle down
The hosts of hell and sin,
And triumph o'er the grave.

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