My youthfull yeres are past, My ioyfull dayes are gone: My life it may not last, My graue and I am one. My mirth and ioyes are fled, And I a man in wo: Desirous to be dedde, My mischiefe to forgo. I burne and am a colde, I frise amids the fire: I see she dothe withholde That is my most desire. I see my helpe at hand, I see my lyfe also: I see where she dothe stande That is my deadly foe. I see how she dothe see, And yet she will be blinde: I se in helpyng me She sekes and will not finde. I see how she doth wry, When I begyn to mone: I see when I come nie, How faine she wold be gone. I see what will ye more She will me gladly kyll: And you shall see therfore That she shall haue her will. I can not liue with stones It is to hard a fode: I will be dead at once To do my Lady good.
I stand before you as a beggar stands, Who craves an alms and will not be denied; Nor shall I cease to wander at your side, Until I gain this largess at your hands; Give me your weary thoughts, your hours of pain, Your dull grey mornings, and your hopeless moods; If one sad moment mars your solitudes, Give that to me, and be at ease again. Behold, my heart is large enough to bear Your burdens, and to rock your heart to sleep; Give me your griefs, I do not ask to share The golden harvest of the joys you reap; Be glad alone; but when your soul's opprest, Come here and lay your head and be at rest.
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Track 1
How this picture is made
What a fractal is
A fractal is a shape that keeps its pattern when you look closer. Coastlines, trees, shells, and weather do this. The large form and the small form are the same kind of thing. A poem can be drawn that way. The shape of the whole comes from the shape of the lines.
Primunia is the name for the source of that order: the pattern under the pattern, already there in a tree, a shell, and a verse.
How the boundary is drawn
The number under the picture is the poem constant. It is read from the build of the lines: their length, how uneven they are, the size of the stanzas, the share of vowels, and the way the lines end. A new word moves the number when it changes that build. The same poem always gives the same number.
Drawn on its own, that number sits in a quiet part of the plane, and most poems would look like the same soft disk. So the number is carried outward along its own direction until it meets the edge of the Mandelbrot set, where the shape turns sharp. The picture is the Julia set of that meeting place.
Each point on the canvas is folded again and again by one small rule. Points that stay near the rule form the dark interior. Points that rush away become the coloured bands. The hue comes from the poem constant, and the brightest bands turn toward gold. Change the length of a line, the stanza, or the vowel share, and both the number and the picture move.
What the branching signifies
Branching draws the poem as a tree. Each turn follows a line, and every smaller branch repeats that pattern. A longer line reaches farther. The letters at the start of a line bend the next turn. A higher share of vowels opens the branches wider.
The trunk takes its colour from the poem constant and warms toward gold at the tips. When the poem has more than one stanza, gold forks leave the trunk. Each fork is a stanza beyond the first, up to three. The tree divides where the poem divides. One stanza remains a single trunk.