Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.029 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 Red, Red Rose

by Robert Burns

0.0634 − 0.3954i

Drawing the boundary…

The Suicide

by Amelia Alderson Opie

0.0585 − 0.4236i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Red, Red Rose

by Robert Burns

O were my love yon lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the spring;
And I, a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing!
How I wad mourn, when it was torn
By autumn wild, and winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing,
When youthfu' May its bloom renewed.

O gin my love were yon red rose,
That grows upon the castle wa';
And I mysel' a drap o' dew,
Into her bonnie breast to fa'!
Oh, there beyond expression blest,
I'd feast on beauty a' the night;
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest,
Till fley'd awa by Phoebus' light.

The Suicide

by Amelia Alderson Opie

And did you see in yonder vale,
A corpse entomb'd, when night began.
Then you shall hear a mournful tale
It was the corpse of beauteous Anne,
Poor injur'd mourner beauteous Anne.

Ah once that lovely maid to see,
Each village Swain delighted ran,
And once she look'd so full of glee,
We always call'd her smiling Anne,
Sweet playful beauty smiling Anne.

Yet tho' we told her men betray'd
False Henry could her heart trepan,
And soon we saw her beauty fade
And ceas'd to call her smiling Anne!
O! how she sorrow'd wretched Anne.

But when we heard her whole sad tale,
To shun her e'en her friends began,
Then desp'rate made she sought yon vale,
And in that stream plung'd frantic Anne!
There lay self-murder'd, hapless Anne.

Yet still when Evening's gentle breath,
The willow o'er her grave shall fan,
We'll seek the spot, lament her death,
And breathe a pray'r, for guilty Anne!
O! Heav'n forgive thee, guilty Anne!

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