Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.039 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.

Fair Ines

by Thomas Hood

−0.0432 + 0.9047i

Drawing the boundary…

The Rain Is Falling

by William Sidney Walker

−0.0794 + 0.8900i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Fair Ines

by Thomas Hood

O saw ye not fair Ines? she's gone into the west,
To dazzle when the sun is down, and rob the world of rest;
She took our daylight with her, the smiles that we love best,
With morning blushes on her cheek, and pearls upon her breast.

O turn again, fair Ines, before the fall of night,
For fear the moon should shine alone, and stars unrivalled bright;
And blessèd will the lover be that walks beneath their light,
And breathes the love against thy cheek I dare not even write!

Would I had been, fair Ines, that gallant cavalier
Who rode so gayly by thy side and whispered thee so near!
Were there no bonny dames at home, or no true lovers here,
That he should cross the seas to win the dearest of the dear?

I saw thee, lovely Ines, descend along the shore,
With bands of noble gentlemen, and banners waved before;
And gentle youth and maidens gay, and snowy plumes they wore;—
It would have been a beauteous dream—if it had been no more!

Alas! alas! fair Ines! she went away with song,
With music waiting on her steps, and shoutings of the throng;
But some were sad, and felt no mirth, but only Music's wrong,
In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell to her you've loved so long.

Farewell, farewell, fair Ines! that vessel never bore
So fair a lady on its deck, nor danced so light before—
Alas for pleasure on the sea, and sorrow on the shore!
The smile that blest one lover's heart has broken many more!

The Rain Is Falling

by William Sidney Walker

The rain is falling sluggishly, the night is sad and still
My weary soul is waning with thoughts of woe and ill;
The earth is cold beneath me, the heavens are black with fear;
My sleepless heart is calling thee: Oh! would that thou wert here!

Oh! would that thou wert here, with thy brow so calm and high,
Thy smile of meek affection, thy undeceiving eye;
By the worm of remorse, by the hell of a peaceless home,
By the madness of suspense, beloved, haste and come!

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