Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.011 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.

To Thomas Moore

by Lord Byron

0.1856 − 0.7683i

Drawing the boundary…

Her Eyes

by John Crowe Ransom

0.1931 − 0.7608i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

To Thomas Moore

by Lord Byron

My boat is on the shore, 
And my bark is on the sea; 
But, before I go, Tom Moore, 
Here's a double health to thee! 

Here's a sigh to those who love me, 
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky's above me, 
Here's a heart for every fate. 

Though the ocean roar around me, 
Yet it still shall bear me on:
Though a desert should surround me, 
It hath springs that may be won. 

Were't the last drop in the well, 
As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell, 
'T is to thee that I would drink. 

With that water, as this wine, 
The libation I would pour 
Should be — peace with thine and mine, 
And a health to thee, Tom Moore.

Her Eyes

by John Crowe Ransom

To a woman that I knew
Were eyes of an extravagant hue:
Viz., china blue.

Those I wear upon my head
Are sometimes green and sometimes red,
I said.

My mother's eyes are wet and blear,
My little sister's are not clear,
Poor silly dear.

It must be given to but few,
A pair of eyes so utter blue
And new.

Where does she keep them from this glare
Of the monstrous sun and the wind's flare
Without any wear;

And were they never in the night
Poisoned by artificial light
Much too bright;

And had this splendid beast no heart
That boiled with tears and baked with smart
The ocular part?

I'll have no business with those eyes,
They are not kind, they are not wise,
Painted pigsties.

A woman shooting such blue flame
I apprehend will get some blame
On her good name.

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content