Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.014 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 splendor falls on castle-walls

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

−0.4761 − 0.0435i

Drawing the boundary…

Down by the Pond

by A. A. Milne

−0.4739 − 0.0292i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The splendor falls on castle-walls

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The splendor falls on castle-walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

Down by the Pond

by A. A. Milne

I'm fishing.
Don't talk, anybody, don't come near!
Can't you see that the fish might hear?
He thinks I'm playing with a piece of string;
He thinks I'm another sort of funny sort of thing,
But he doesn't know I'm fishing — 
He doesn't know I'm fishing.
That's what I'm doing — 
Fishing.

No, I'm not, I'm newting.
Don't cough, anybody, don't come by!
Any small noise makes a newt feel shy.
He thinks I'm a bush, or a new sort of tree;
He thinks it's somebody, but doesn't think it's Me,
And he doesn't know I'm newting — 
No, he doesn't know I'm newting.
That's what I'm doing — 
Newting.

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