Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.008 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 Lass I Love

by Patrick Reginald Chalmers

−0.2591 − 0.6086i

Drawing the boundary…

To Music, to Becalm His Fever

by Robert Herrick

−0.2606 − 0.6009i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Lass I Love

by Patrick Reginald Chalmers

The lass I love, oh, red's her cheek, 
Her eyes are bits o' heaven; 
The reason isn't hard to seek — 
Her mother's out of Devon. 

The lass I love, her plaits are black, 
Her tongue is soft and merry — 
Her grandad got his pedlar's pack 
Among the hills o' Kerry. 

The lass I love has thrift for three, 
For 'twas her mother's granny 
That loved a sailor from Dundee, 
Where all the folk are cannie. 

Now naught o' hers I've found to link 
With land of leek and daffy, 
And yet she's thieved my heart (I'll think), 
So there's your touch o' Taffy! 

To Music, to Becalm His Fever

by Robert Herrick

Charm me asleep, and melt me so
With thy delicious numbers;
That being ravish'd, hence I go
Away in easy slumbers.
Ease my sick head,
And make my bed,
Thou Power that canst sever
From me this ill;—
And quickly still,
Though thou not kill
My fever.

Thou sweetly canst convert the same
From a consuming fire,
Into a gentle-licking flame,
And make it thus expire.
Then make me weep
My pains asleep,
And give me such reposes,
That I, poor I,
May think, thereby,
I live and die
'Mongst roses.

Fall on me like a silent dew,
Or like those maiden showers,
Which, by the peep of day, do strew
A baptism o'er the flowers.
Melt, melt my pains
With thy soft strains;
That having ease me given,
With full delight,
I leave this light,
And take my flight
For Heaven.

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