Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.016 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 Wild Honey Suckle

by Philip Freneau

0.0342 − 0.3863i

Drawing the boundary…

Qua Cursum Ventus

by Arthur Hugh Clough

0.0305 − 0.4015i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Wild Honey Suckle

by Philip Freneau

Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
 Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,
 Unseen thy little branches greet:
    No roving foot shall crush thee here,
    No busy hand provoke a tear.

By Nature’s self in white arrayed,
 She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the guardian shade,
 And sent soft waters murmuring by;
    Thus quietly thy summer goes,
    Thy days declining to repose.

Smit with those charms, that must decay,
 I grieve to see your future doom;
They died –— nor were those flowers more gay,
 The flowers that did in Eden bloom;
    Unpitying frosts, and Autumn’s power
    Shall leave no vestige of this flower.

From morning suns and evening dews
 At first thy little being came:
If nothing once, you nothing lose,
 For when you die you are the same;
    The space between, is but an hour,
    The frail duration of a flower.

Qua Cursum Ventus

by Arthur Hugh Clough

As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay
With canvas drooping, side by side,
Two towers of sail at dawn of day
Are scarce long leagues apart descried;

When fell the night, upsprung the breeze,
And all the darkling hours they plied,
Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas
By each was cleaving, side by side:

E’en so—but why the tale reveal
Of those, whom year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel,
Astounded, soul from soul estranged?

At dead of night their sails were filled,
And onward each rejoicing steered—
Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,
Or wist, what first with dawn appeared!

To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,
Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides—
To that, and your own selves, be true.

But O blithe breeze; and O great seas,
Though ne’er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last.

One port, methought, alike they sought,
One purpose hold where’er they fare,—
O bounding breeze, O rushing seas!
At last, at last, unite them there!

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