A quiet notice V2Melody closes at midnight on , Spanish time.

Closes

A note from Richard

V2Melody will close at midnight on 20 January 2028

This site has been a retirement project in musical poetry: poems chosen with care and set to music, offered freely for as long as it felt right to keep the garden open.

After the death of my mother, the work no longer holds the place it once did in my life. I have gone as far with it as I wish to go. Like a sand mandala, it was made to be completed and then released. I am not attached to its permanence, and I do not believe any of it needs to last beyond the time it was given.

My wife and I are simplifying our days. The server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the quieter life we want.

From 4 November 2026 I will not be adding new poems or musical poems to the site.

Until midnight on 20 January 2028, Spanish time, everything remains available exactly as it is. That is when my VPS server contract comes to an end, and it will not be renewed. After that, the server will be switched off and the site will disappear.

Thank you to anyone who found a poem, a track, or a quiet moment here.

The pleasure was in the making.

Richard



Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.047 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.

My days have been so wondrous free

by Thomas Parnell

0.1862 − 0.8153i

Drawing the boundary…

To Thomas Moore

by Lord Byron

0.1856 − 0.7683i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

My days have been so wondrous free

by Thomas Parnell

My days have been so wondrous free
The little birds that fly
With careless ease from tree to tree,
Were but as bless'd as I.

Ask gliding waters, if a tear
Of mine increas'd their stream?
Or ask the flying gales, if e'er
I lent one sigh to them?

But now my former days retire,
And I'm by beauty caught,
The tender chains of sweet desire
Are fix'd upon my thought.

Ye nightingales, ye twisting pines!
Ye swains that haunt the grove!
Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds!
Ye close retreats of love!

With all of nature, all of art,
Assist the dear design;
O teach a young, unpractis'd heart,
To make my Nancy mine!

The very thought of change I hate,
As much as of despair;
Nor ever covet to be great,
Unless it be for her.

'Tis true, the passion in my mind
Is mix'd with soft distress;
Yet while the fair I love is kind,
I cannot wish it less.

To Thomas Moore

by Lord Byron

My boat is on the shore, 
And my bark is on the sea; 
But, before I go, Tom Moore, 
Here's a double health to thee! 

Here's a sigh to those who love me, 
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky's above me, 
Here's a heart for every fate. 

Though the ocean roar around me, 
Yet it still shall bear me on:
Though a desert should surround me, 
It hath springs that may be won. 

Were't the last drop in the well, 
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell, 
'T is to thee that I would drink. 

With that water, as this wine, 
The libation I would pour 
Should be — peace with thine and mine, 
And a health to thee, Tom Moore.

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