Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.031 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.

Pierrot's Posies

by Nora Hopper Chesson

−0.0880 − 0.4640i

Drawing the boundary…

Song of a Maid Whose Love Is Dead

by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

−0.0573 − 0.4704i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Pierrot's Posies

by Nora Hopper Chesson

I made a posy for Pierrot
To give his wilful Columbine, 
Of satin-flowers as soft as snow 
And bluebells fine. 
She sent them back with laugh and fleer,
And Pierrot never knew, I wis, 
That in the posy lay a tear 
That was not his. 

I made a posy for Pierrot 
All white and green and yellow; 
And sweeter posy ne'er, I know,
Graced any pretty fellow. 
'Twas gold and white for Love's delight 
With roses brave to see: 
But there for grief we laid a leaf 
Of rosemary. 

I made a posy for Pierrot, 
The last of all my posies: 
'Twas thick with lilies cold as snow, 
And pallid Christmas roses. 
We set white hyacinth a-row 
Through feathery cypress peeping, 
And Columbine and I — heigho! 
Threw it with heavy weeping 
Into a grave, that it might go 
Wither with Pierrot sleeping. 

Song of a Maid Whose Love Is Dead

by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Merry, merry little stream,
Tell me, hast thou seen my dear?
I left him with an azure dream,
Calmly sleeping on his bier—
But he has fled!

"I passed him in his church-yard bed—
A yew is sighing o'er his head,
And grass-roots mingle with his hair."
What doth he there?
O cruel! can he lie alone?
Or in the arms of one more dear?
Or hides he in that bower of stone,
To cause and kiss away my fear?

"He doth not speak, he doth not moan—
Blind, motionless he lies alone;
But, ere the grave snake fleshed his sting,
This one warm tear he bade me bring
And lay it at thy feet
Among the daisies sweet."

Moonlight whisperer, summer air,
Songster of the groves above,
Tell the maiden rose I wear,
Whether thou hast seen my love.
"This night in heaven I saw him lie,
Discontented with his bliss;
And on my lips he left this kiss,
For thee to taste and then to die."

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