Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.046 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.

Not, to me, less lavish

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

0.2534 + 0.5450i

Drawing the boundary…

How shall a man

by Hartley Coleridge

0.2487 + 0.4990i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Not, to me, less lavish

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Not, to me, less lavish—though my dreams have been splendid—
Than dreams, have been the hours of the actual day:
Never, awaking, did I awake to say:
"Nothing could be like that," when a dream was ended.
Colours, in dream; ecstasy, in dream extended
Beyond the edge of sleep—these, in their way,
Approach, come even close, yet pause, yet stay,
In the high presence of request by its answer attended.

Music, and painting, poetry, love, and grief,
Had they been more intense, I could not have borne,—
Yet, not, I think, through stout endurance lacked;
Rather, because the budding and the falling leaf
Were one, and wonderful,—not to be torn
Apart: I ask of dream: seem like the fact.

How shall a man

by Hartley Coleridge

How shall a man fore-doom’d to lone estate,
Untimely old, irreverendly grey,
Much like a patch of dusky snow in May,
Dead sleeping in a hollow, all too late —
How shall so poor a thing congratulate
The blest completion of a patient wooing,
Or how commend a younger man for doing
What ne’er to do hath been his fault or fate?
There is a fable, that I once did read,
Of a bad angel, that was someway good,
And therefore on the brink of Heaven he stood,
Looking each way, and no way could proceed;
Till at last he purged away his sin
By loving all the joy he saw within.

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