A quiet notice V2Melody closes at midnight on , Spanish time.

Closes

A note from Richard

V2Melody will close at midnight on 20 January 2028

This site has been a retirement project in musical poetry: poems chosen with care and set to music, offered freely for as long as it felt right to keep the garden open.

After the death of my mother, the work no longer holds the place it once did in my life. I have gone as far with it as I wish to go. Like a sand mandala, it was made to be completed and then released. I am not attached to its permanence, and I do not believe any of it needs to last beyond the time it was given.

My wife and I are simplifying our days. The server, the monitoring, and the residual obligations that come with keeping a site alive no longer fit the quieter life we want.

From 4 November 2026 I will not be adding new poems or musical poems to the site.

Until midnight on 20 January 2028, Spanish time, everything remains available exactly as it is. That is when my VPS server contract comes to an end, and it will not be renewed. After that, the server will be switched off and the site will disappear.

Thank you to anyone who found a poem, a track, or a quiet moment here.

The pleasure was in the making.

Richard



Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.132 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.

When Winter's Closing Shadows Fall

by Cecil Frances Alexander

−0.8813 − 0.3736i

Drawing the boundary…

The Myrtle Bough

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

−0.7522 − 0.4031i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

When Winter's Closing Shadows Fall

by Cecil Frances Alexander

When winter's closing shadows fall
Full early on the whitened wall,
When trimly glows the cottage fire
For home returning son and sire,
We'll gather round the brightening blaze
And sing for them our blithest lays.

When summer evenings cool and still
Cast golden gleams on tower and hill,
When dewy mists are curling thin,
The lowly trellised porch within.
While quiet twilight creeps along
We'll sit and sing some tender song.

The thrush beside the cottage door
His wildest warblings loves to pour,
The blackbird trills his notes of glee
From out the poor man's garden tree,
And the sweet night bird gives her strain
Where peasants wander down the lane.

Learn we of them, o'er lowly things
To shed the charm, sweet music brings
By every cottage hearth be heard,
The singing of some sweet home bird,
To pour on labour's charmèd ear,
The soothing strain he loves to hear.

The Myrtle Bough

by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Still green, along our sunny shore,
The flowering myrtle waves,
As when its fragrant boughs of yore
Were offer'd on the graves—
The graves wherein our mighty men
Had rest, unviolated then.

Still green it waves! as when the hearth
Was sacred through the land;
And fearless was the banquet's mirth,
And free the minstrel's hand;
And guests, with shining myrtle crown'd,
Sent the wreath'd lyre and wine-cup round.

Still green! as when on holy ground
The tyrant's blood was pour'd:
Forget ye not what garlands bound
The young deliverer's sword!
Though earth may shroud Harmodius now,
We still have sword and myrtle bough!

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