Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.034 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 Pilgrim of Love

by Amelia Alderson Opie

0.0284 + 0.1863i

Drawing the boundary…

Regret

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

−0.0056 + 0.1861i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Pilgrim of Love

by Amelia Alderson Opie

Orynthia, my beloved!
I call in vain!
Orynthia! Orynthia!
Echo hears and calls again.
A mimic voice repeats the name around!
And with Orynthia all the rocks re-sound!

A Hermit who dwells in these solitudes, cross'd me,
As way worn and faint up the mountain I press'd,
The aged man paus'd on his staff to accost me,
And proffer'd his cell, as my mansion of rest.
Ah! nay, courteous Father, right onward I rove;
No rest but the grave for the Pilgrim of Love!

'Yet tarry, my son, till the burning noon passes,
Let boughs of the Lemon tree shelter thy head;
The juice of ripe Muscadel flows in my glasses,
And rushes, fresh pull'd, for Siesta are spread!'
Ah! nay, courteous Father, right onward I rove,
No rest but the grave for the Pilgrim of Love!

Regret

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

There is a haunting phantom called Regret,
A shadowy creature robed somewhat like Woe,
But fairer in the face, whom all men know
By her sad mien and eyes forever wet.
No heart would seek her; but once having met,
All take her by the hand, and to and fro
They wander through those paths of long ago —
Those hallowed ways 'twere wiser to forget.

One day she led me to that lost land's gate
And bade me enter; but I answered "No!
I will pass on with my bold comrade, Fate;
I have no tears to waste on thee — no time;
My strength I hoard for heights I hope to climb:
No friend art thou for souls that would be great."

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