Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.036 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.

Contradictions

by Mary Coleridge

0.1379 + 0.0495i

Drawing the boundary…

A Daydream

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

0.1225 + 0.0820i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Contradictions

by Mary Coleridge

When I am dead, I know that thou wilt weep,
I that have never caused thee grief before,
I that have soothed thee, sung thy woes to sleep,
I shall have wrought thee sorrow wild and deep,
And made thy burden more.

When I am dead, I know thou wilt forget,
Thou that didst never yet forget thy friend.
"Grieve not!" I cry; "I would not have thee fret"—
"Remember! I would live within thee yet."
In vain, I know the end.

A Daydream

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

My eyes make pictures, when they are shut:
I see a fountain, large and fair,
A willow, and a ruined hut,
And thee, and me, and Mary there.
O Mary! make thy gentle lap our pillow!
Bend o’er us, like a bower, my beautiful green willow!

A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed,
And that and summer well agree:
And lo! where Mary leans her head,
Two dear names carved upon the tree!
And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow:
Our sister and our friend will both be here to-morrow.

'Twas day! But now few, large, and bright,
The stars are round the crescent moon!
And now it is a dark warm night,
The balmiest of the month of June!
A glow-worm fallen, and on the marge remounting,
Shines, and its shadow shines, fit stars for our sweet fountain.

O ever—ever be thou blest!
For dearly, Asra! love I thee!
This brooding warmth across my breast,
This depth of tranquil bliss—ah me!
Fount, tree, and shed are gone, I know not whither,
But in one quiet room we three are still together.

The shadows dance upon the wall
By the still dancing fire-flames made;
And now they slumber, moveless all!
And now they melt to one deep shade!
But not from me shall this mild darkness steal thee:
I dream thee with mine eyes, and at my heart I feel thee!

Thine eyelash on my cheek doth play—
'Tis Mary's hand upon my brow!
But let me check this tender lay
Which none may hear but she and thou!
Like the still hive at quiet midnight humming,
Murmur it to yourselves, ye two beloved women!

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