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.

Coronach, or Death-Wail

by Charles Mackay

0.1405 − 0.5221i

Drawing the boundary…

To the Beloved

by Alice Meynell

0.1561 − 0.5372i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Coronach, or Death-Wail

by Charles Mackay

Wail! Wail!
For a sun hath set,
Which no returning morrow 
Shall ever call 
From the darksome pail,
To beam upon our sorrow!
Moan! Moan!
O'er his dwelling lone,
As ye heap the clod above him:
Dead! Dead!
His soul hath fled
From the hearts that lived to love him!

Wail! Wail!
Though our tears be vain,
For the soul in glory shining!
Yet how can those 
Who have seen his close 
Forbear for awhile repining?
Moan! Moan! 
O’er the narrow stone;
Body and soul must sever!
Dead! Dead!
His spirit hath fled.
And a star hath set for ever!

To the Beloved

by Alice Meynell

Oh, not more subtly silence strays
Amongst the winds, between the voices,
Mingling alike with pensive lays,
And with the music that rejoices,
Than thou art present in my days.

My silence, life returns to thee
In all the pauses of her breath.
Hush back to rest the melody
That out of thee awakeneth;
And thou, wake ever, wake for me!

Thou art like silence all unvexed,
Though wild words part my soul from thee.
Thou art like silence unperplexed,
A secret and a mystery
Between one footfall and the next.

Most dear pause in a mellow lay!
Thou art inwoven with every air.
With thee the wildest tempests play,
And snatches of thee everywhere
Make little heavens throughout a day.

Darkness and solitude shine, for me.
For life's fair outward part are rife
The silver noises; let them be.
It is the very soul of life
Listens for thee, listens for thee.

O pause between the sobs of cares;
O thought within all thought that is;
Trance between laughters unawares:
Thou are the shape of melodies,
And thou the ecstasy of prayers!

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