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.

A Year Ago

by Philip Bourke Marston

0.2323 + 0.2346i

Drawing the boundary…

A Death Song

by William Morris

0.1971 + 0.2392i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Year Ago

by Philip Bourke Marston

A year ago, beloved! Who shall say 
What smiles and tears were ours a year ago? 
Last year my heart was fain its love to show; 
Then had I songs to sing, and prayers to pray, 
And dreams to dream, in dawns and twilights gray, — 
Dreams of love's heaven, that I came to know 
For passionate realities; and, lo! 
Realities turn back to dreams to-day. 

O thou, my love, my saviour, living yet! 
I stand with folded hands before the gates, — 
Dark doors, whereof Death hath alone the key. 
So, with strained ear to iron gratings set, 
His term of bondage spent, some prisoner waits 
The word that, long delayed, shall make him free. 

A Death Song

by William Morris

What cometh here from west to east awending?
And who are these, the marchers stern and slow?
We bear the message that the rich are sending
Aback to those who bade them wake and know.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.

We ask them for a life of toilsome earning,
They bade us bide their leisure for our bread;
We crave to speak to tell our woeful learning:
We come back speechless, bearing back our dead.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.

They will not learn; they have no ears to hearken.
They turn their faces from the eyes of fate;
Their gay-lit halls shut out the skies that darken.
But, lo! this dead man knocking at the gate.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.

Here lies the sign that we shall break our prison;
Amidst the storm he won a prisoner's rest;
But in the cloudy dawn the sun arisen
Brings us our day of work to win the best.
Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay,
But one and all if they would dusk the day.

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