Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.038 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 Dead Child

by Ernest Dowson

0.1798 − 1.2133i

Drawing the boundary…

I have no life but this

by Emily Dickinson

0.1604 − 1.2464i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Dead Child

by Ernest Dowson

Sleep on, dear, now
The last sleep and the best,
And on thy brow,
And on thy quiet breast
Violets I throw.

Thy scanty years
Were mine a little while;
Life had no fears
To trouble thy brief smile
With toil or tears.

Lie still, and be
For evermore a child!
Not grudgingly,
Whom life has not defiled,
I render thee.

Slumber so deep,
No man would rashly wake;
I hardly weep,
Fain only, for thy sake,
To share thy sleep.

Yes, to be dead,
Dead, here with thee to-day,—
When all is said
'Twere good by thee to lay
My weary head.

The very best!
Ah, child so tired of play,
I stand confessed:
I want to come thy way,
And share thy rest.

I have no life but this

by Emily Dickinson

I have no life but this,
To lead it here;
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;

Nor tie to earths to come,
Nor action new,
Except through this extent,
The realm of you.

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