Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.022 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 Dying Christian to his Soul

by Alexander Pope

−0.1126 − 0.5302i

Drawing the boundary…

The Little Boy Lost

by William Blake

−0.0973 − 0.5143i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Dying Christian to his Soul

by Alexander Pope

Vital spark of heavenly flame!
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,
Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life!

Hark! they whisper; angels say,
'Sister Spirit, come away!'
What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be Death?

The world recedes; it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?

The Little Boy Lost

by William Blake

'Father, father, where are you going?
    O do not walk so fast!
Speak, father, speak to your little boy,
    Or else I shall be lost.'

The night was dark, no father was there,
    The child was wet with dew;
The mire was deep, and the child did weep,
    And away the vapour flew.

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