Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.019 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.

Begging Another

by Ben Jonson

0.1020 − 0.2937i

Drawing the boundary…

An Ode to Love

by Aphra Behn

0.1061 − 0.3120i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Begging Another

by Ben Jonson

For love's sake, kiss me once again;
I long, and should not beg in vain,
Here's none to spy or see;
Why do you doubt or stay?
I'll taste as lightly as the bee
That doth but touch his flower and flies away.

Once more, and faith I will be gone;
Can he that loves ask less than one?
Nay, you may err in this
And all your bounty wrong;
This could be called but half a kiss,
What we're but once to do, we should do long.

I will but mend the last, and tell
Where, how it should have relished well;
Join lip to lip, and try
Each suck other's breath.
And whilst our tongues perplexed lie,
Let who will, think us dead or wish our death.

An Ode to Love

by Aphra Behn

Dull Love no more thy senseless arrows prize,
Damn thy gay quiver, break thy bow;
'Tis only young Lysanders eyes,
That all the arts of wounding know.

A pox of foolish politics in love,
A wise delay in war the foe may harm:
By lazy siege while you to conquest move;
His fiercer beauties vanquish by a storm.

Some wounded god, to be revenged on thee,
The charming youth formed in a lucky hour,
Dressed him in all that fond divinity,
That has out-rivalled thee, a god, in power.

Or else while thou supinely laid 
Basking beneath some myrtle shade,
In careless sleep, or tired with play,
When all thy shafts did scattered lie;
Th'unguarded spoils he bore away,
And armed himself with the artillery.

The sweetness from thy eyes he took,
The charming dimples from thy mouth,
That wonderous softness when you spoke;
And all thy everlasting youth.

Thy bow, thy quiver, and thy darts:
Even of thy painted wing has rifled thee,
To bear him from his conquered broken hearts,
To the next fair and yielding she.

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