Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.012 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.

I Will Arise

by Christina Rossetti

−0.0117 + 0.0178i

Drawing the boundary…

Her Street

by Arthur Symons

−0.0230 + 0.0131i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

I Will Arise

by Christina Rossetti

Weary and weak,—accept my weariness;
Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,
With hope growing less and less,
And with the goal
Distant and dim,—accept my sore distress.
I thought to reach the goal so long ago,
At outset of the race I dreamed of rest,
Not knowing what now I know
Of breathless haste,
Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste.

One only thing I knew, Thy love of me;
One only thing I know, Thy sacred same
Love of me full and free,
A craving flame
Of selfless love of me which burns in Thee.
How can I think of thee, and yet grow chill;
Of Thee, and yet grow cold and nigh to death?
Re-energize my will,
Rebuild my faith;
I will arise and run, Thou giving me breath.

I will arise, repenting and in pain;
I will arise, and smite upon my breast
And turn to Thee again;
Thou choosest best,
Lead me along the road Thou makest plain.
Lead me a little way, and carry me
A little way, and listen to my sighs,
And store my tears with Thee,
And deign replies
To feeble prayers;—O Lord, I will arise.

Her Street

by Arthur Symons

I passed your street of many memories.
     A sunset, sombre pink, the flush
     Of inner rose-leaves idle fingers crush,
Died softly, as the rose that dies.
All the high heaven behind the roof lay thus,
     Tenderly dying, touched with pain
     A little; standing there I saw again
The sunsets that were dear to us.

I knew not if ’twere bitter or more sweet
     To stand and watch the roofs, the sky.
     O bitter to be there and you not nigh,
Yet this had been that blessed street.
How the name thrilled me, there upon the wall!
    There was the house, the windows there
     Against the rosy twilight high and bare,
The pavement-stones: I knew them all!

Days that have been, days that have fallen cold!
     I stood and gazed, and thought of you,
     Until remembrance sweet and mournful drew
Tears to eyes smiling as of old.
So, sad and glad, your memory visibly
     Alive within my eyes, I turned;
     And, through a window, met two eyes that burned,
Tenderly questioning, on me.

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