Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.037 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.

Love is a Terrible Thing

by Grace Fallow Norton

0.0154 − 0.3384i

Drawing the boundary…

On a Bed of Guernsey Lilies

by Christopher Smart

0.0470 − 0.3199i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Love is a Terrible Thing

by Grace Fallow Norton

I went out to the farthest meadow,
I lay down in the deepest shadow;

And I said unto the earth, “Hold me,”
And unto the night, “O enfold me,”

And unto the wind petulantly
I cried, “You know not for you are free!”

And I begged the little leaves to lean
Low and together for a safe screen;

Then to the stars I told my tale:
“That is my home-light, there in the vale,

“And Ο, I know that I shall return,
But let me lie first mid the unfeeling fern.

“For there is a flame that has blown too near,
And there is a name that has grown too dear,
And there is a fear....”

And to the still hills and cool earth and far sky I made moan,
“The heart in my bosom is not my own!

“O would I were free as the wind on wing;
Love is a terrible thing!”

On a Bed of Guernsey Lilies

by Christopher Smart

Ye beauties! O how great the sum
Of sweetness that ye bring,
On what a charity ye come
To bless the latter spring!
How kind the visit that ye pay,
Like strangers on a rainy day,
When heartiness despair'd of guests:
No neighbour's praise your pride alarms,
No rival flow'r surveys your charms,
Or heightens, or contests!

Lo, thro' her works gay nature grieves
How brief she is and frail,
As ever o'er the falling leaves
Autumnal winds prevail.
Yet still the philosophic mind
Consolatory food can find,
And hope her anchorage maintain:
We never are deserted quite;
'Tis by succession of delight
That love supports his reign.

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