Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.018 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 Dirge

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

−0.4804 − 0.5260i

Drawing the boundary…

O lusty May

by David Melvill

−0.4782 − 0.5080i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Dirge

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

A bell tolls on in my heart
As though in my ears a knell
Had ceased for awhile to swell,
But the sense of it would not part
From the spirit that bears its part
In the chime of the soundless bell.

Ah dear dead singer of sorrow,
The burden is now not thine
That grief bade sound for a sign
Through the songs of the night whose morrow
Has risen, and I may not borrow
A beam from its radiant shrine.

The burden has dropped from thee
That grief on thy life bound fast;
The winter is over and past
Whose end thou wast fain to see.
Shall sorrow not comfort me
That is thine no longer—at last?

Good day, good night, and good morrow,
Men living and mourning say.
For thee we could only pray
That night of the day might borrow
Such comfort as dreams lend sorrow:
Death gives thee at last good day.

O lusty May

by David Melvill

O lusty May, with Flora queen,
The balmy drops from Phoebus’ sheen
Prelucent beams before the day,
By the Diana groweth green
Through gladness of this lusty May.

Then Hesperus that is so bright,
To woeful hearts he casteth light
Right pleasantly before the day,
And shows and sheds forth of that sight
Through gladness of this lusty May.

The birds on boughs of every sort
Send forth their notes and make great mirth
On banks that bloom on every brae,
And fare and fly o’er field and firth
Through gladness of this lusty May.

All lovers’ hearts that are in care,
To their ladies they do repair
On fresh mornings before the day,
And are in mirth aye more and more
Through gladness of this lusty May.

Of all the months of the year,
To mirthful May there is no peer,
Then glistening garments are so gay,
Ye lovers all make merry cheer
Through gladness of this lusty May.

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content