Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.032 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.

A solemn thing — it was — I said

by Emily Dickinson

−0.5117 − 0.5487i

Drawing the boundary…

Second Life

by William Edmondstoune Aytoun

−0.4908 − 0.5726i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A solemn thing — it was — I said

by Emily Dickinson

A solemn thing — it was — I said —
A woman — white — to be —
And wear — if God should count me fit —
Her blameless mystery —

A hallowed thing — to drop a life
Into the purple well —
Too plummetless — that it return —
Eternity — until —

I pondered how the bliss would look —
And would it feel as big —
When I could take it in my hand —
As hovering — seen — through fog — glimmering

And then — the size of this “small” life —
The Sages — call it small —
Swelled — like Horizons — in my vest —
And I sneered — softly — “small”!

Second Life

by William Edmondstoune Aytoun

After life's departing sigh,
To the spots I loved most dearly,
In the sunshine and the shadow,
By the fountain welling clearly,
Through the wood and o'er the meadow,
Flit I like a butterfly.

There a gentle pair I spy.
Round the maiden's tresses flying,
From her chaplet I discover
All that I had lost in dying.
Still with her and with her lover.
Who so happy then as I?

For she smiles with laughing eye;
And his lips to hers he presses,
Vows of passion interchanging,
Stifling her with sweet caresses,
O'er her budding beauties ranging;
And around the twain I fly.

And she sees me fluttering nigh;
And beneath his ardour trembling,
Starts she up—then off I hover.
'Look there, dearest!' Thus dissembling,
Speaks the maiden to her lover—
'Come and catch that butterfly!'

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