Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.081 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 Forest Reverie

by Edgar Allan Poe

−0.7473 + 0.2006i

Drawing the boundary…

The Irish in Gallipoli

by Francis Ledwidge

−0.6789 + 0.1579i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Forest Reverie

by Edgar Allan Poe

'Tis said that when
The hands of men
Tamed this primeval wood,
And hoary trees with groans of wo,
Like warriors by an unknown foe,
Were in their strength subdued,
The virgin Earth
Gave instant birth
To springs that ne'er did flow—
That in the sun
Did rivulets run,
And all around rare flowers did blow—
The wild rose pale
Perfumed the gale,
And the queenly lily adown the dale
(Whom the sun and the dew
And the winds did woo),
With the gourd and the grape luxuriant grew.

So when in tears
The love of years
Is wasted like the snow,
And the fine fibrils of its life
By the rude wrong of instant strife
Are broken at a blow—
Within the heart
Do springs upstart
Of which it doth now know,
And strange, sweet dreams,
Like silent streams
That from new fountains overflow,
With the earlier tide
Of rivers glide
Deep in the heart whose hope has died—
Quenching the fires its ashes hide,—
Its ashes, whence will spring and grow
Sweet flowers, ere long,—
The rare and radiant flowers of song!

The Irish in Gallipoli

by Francis Ledwidge

Where Aegean cliffs with bristling menace front
The treacherous splendour of that isley sea,
Lighted by Troy's last shadow; where the first
Hero kept watch and the last Mystery
Shook with dark thunder. Hark! the battle brunt!
A nation speaks, old Silences are burst.

'Tis not for lust of glory, no new throne
This thunder and this lightning of our power
Wakens up frantic echoes, not for these
Our Cross with England's mingle, to be blown
At Mammon's threshold. We but war when war
Serves Liberty and Keeps a world at peace.

Who said that such an emprise could be vain?
Were they not one with Christ, who fought and died?
Let Ireland weep: but not for sorrow, weep
That by her sons a land is sanctified,
For Christ arisen, and angels once again
Come back, like exile birds, and watch their sleep.

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