Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.031 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.

A Dalesman's Litany

by Frederic William Moorman

−0.0245 − 0.2910i

Drawing the boundary…

Ah! what can mean that eager joy

by Aphra Behn

0.0053 − 0.2836i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

A Dalesman's Litany

by Frederic William Moorman

It's hard when fowks can't finnd their wark
Wheer they've bin bred an' born;
When I were young I awlus thowt
I'd bide 'mong t' roots an' corn.
But I've bin forced to work i' towns,
So here's my litany:
Frae Hull, an' Halifax, an' Hell,
Gooid Lord, deliver me!

When I were courtin' Mary Ann,
T' owd squire, he says one day:
"I've got no bield for wedded fowks;
Choose, wilt ta wed or stay? "
I couldn't gie up t' lass I loved,
To t' town we had to flee:
Frae Hull, an' Halifax, an' Hell,
Gooid Lord, deliver me!

I've wrowt i' Leeds an' Huthersfel',
An' addled honest brass;
I' Bradforth, Keighley, Rotherham,
I've kept my barns an' lass.
I've travelled all three Ridin's round,
And once I went to sea:
Frae forges, mills, an' coalin' boats,
Gooid Lord, deliver me!

I've walked at neet through Sheffield loans,
'T were same as bein' i' Hell:
Furnaces thrast out tongues o' fire,
An' roared like t' wind on t' fell.
I've sammed up coals i' Barnsley pits,
Wi' muck up to my knee:
Frae Sheffield, Barnsley, Rotherham,
Gooid Lord, deliver me!

I've seen grey fog creep ower Leeds Brig
As thick as bastile soup;
I've lived wheer fowks were stowed away
Like rabbits in a coop.
I've watched snow float down Bradforth Beck
As black as ebiny:
Frae Hunslet, Holbeck, Wibsey Slack,
Gooid Lord, deliver me!

But now, when all wer childer's fligged,
To t' coontry we've coom back.
There's fotty mile o' heathery moor
Twix' us an' t' coal-pit slack.
And when I sit ower t' fire at neet,
I laugh an' shout wi' glee:
Frae Bradforth, Leeds, an Huthersfel',
Frae Hull, an' Halifax, an' Hell,
T' gooid Lord's delivered me!

Ah! what can mean that eager joy

by Aphra Behn

Ah! what can mean that eager joy
Transports my heart when you appear?
Ah, Strephon! you my thoughts employ
In all that's charming, all that's dear.
When you your pleasing story tell,
A softness does invade each part,
And I with blushes own I feel
Something too tender at my heart.

At your approach my blushes rise,
And I at once both wish and fear;
My wounded soul mounts to my eyes,
As it would prattle stories there.
Take, take that heart that needs must go
But, shepherd, see it kindly used:
For who such presents will bestow,
If this, alas! should be abused?

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content