Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.076 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.

O make me a mask

by Dylan Thomas

−0.0579 + 1.1305i

Drawing the boundary…

Farewell to Love

by Thomas Campbell

0.0111 + 1.0975i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

O make me a mask

by Dylan Thomas

O make me a mask and a wall to shut from your spies 
Of the sharp, enamelled eyes and the spectacled claws 
Rape and rebellion in the nurseries of my face,
Gag of a dumbstruck tree to block from bare enemies 
The bayonet tongue in this undefended prayerpiece,
The present mouth, and the sweetly blown trumpet of lies, 
Shaped in old armour and oak the countenance of a dunce 
To shield the glistening brain and blunt the examiners,
And a tear-stained widower grief drooped from the lashes 
To veil belladonna and let the dry eyes perceive 
Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses 
By the curve of the nude mouth or the laugh up the sleeve.

Farewell to Love

by Thomas Campbell

I had a heart that doted once in passion's boundless pain,
And though the tyrant I abjured, I could not break his chain;
But now that Fancy's fire is quench'd, and ne'er can burn anew,
I've bid to Love, for all my life, adieu! adieu! adieu!

I've known, if ever mortal knew, the spells of Beauty's thrall,
And if my song has told them not, my soul has felt them all;
But Passion robs my peace no more, and Beauty's witching sway
Is now to me a star that's fall'n—a dream that's pass'd away.

Hail! welcome tide of life, when no tumultuous billows roll,
How wondrous to myself appears this halcyon calm of soul!
The wearied bird blown o'er the deep would sooner quit its shore,
Than I would cross the gulf again that time has brought me o'er.

Why say they Angels feel the flame?— O spirits of the skies!
Can love like ours, that dotes on dust, in heavenly bosoms rise?—
Ah no! the hearts that best have felt its power, the best can tell,
That peace on earth itself begins, when Love has bid farewell.

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