Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.013 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.

My days among the Dead are past

by Robert Southey

−0.1266 − 0.5359i

Drawing the boundary…

Envy

by Mary Lamb

−0.1343 − 0.5458i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

My days among the Dead are past

by Robert Southey

My days among the Dead are past;
  Around me I behold,
Where'er these casual eyes are cast
  The mighty minds of old;
My never failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal,
  And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel
  How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedew'd
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the Dead, with them
  I live in long-past years,
Their virtues love, their faults condemn,
  Partake their hopes and fears,
And from their lessons seek and find
Instruction with an humble mind.

My hopes are with the Dead, anon
  My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
  Through all Futurity;
Yet leaving here a name, I trust,
That will not perish in the dust.

Envy

by Mary Lamb

This rose-tree is not made to bear
The violet blue, nor lily fair,
   Nor the sweet mignionet:
And if this tree were discontent,
Or wished to change its natural bent,
   It all in vain would fret.

And should it fret, you would suppose
It ne’er had seen its own red rose,
   Nor after gentle shower
Had ever smelled its rose’s scent,
Or it could ne’er be discontent
   With its own pretty flower.

Like such a blind and senseless tree
As I’ve imagined this to be,
   All envious persons are:
With care and culture all may find
Some pretty flower in their own mind,
   Some talent that is rare.

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