Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.041 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.

On a Hillside

by George William Russell

−0.0212 − 0.9615i

Drawing the boundary…

Love is a babble

by Robert Jones

−0.0098 − 1.0008i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

On a Hillside

by George William Russell

A friendly mountain I know;
As I lie on the green slope there
It sets my heart in a glow
And closes the door on care.

A thought I try to frame—
I was with you long ago;
My soul from your heart out-came;
Mountain, is that not so?

Take me again, dear hills,
Open the door to me
Where the magic murmur thrills
The halls I do not see,

The halls and caverns deep;
Though sometimes I may dare
Down the twilight stairs of sleep
To meet the kingly there.

Sometimes on flaming wings
I sit upon a throne
And watch how the great star swings
Along the sapphire zone.

It has wings of its own for flight,
Diamond its pinions strong,
Glories of opal and white,
I watch the whole night long.

Until I needs must lay
My royal robes aside
To toil in a world of grey,
Grey shadows by my side.

And when I ponder it o'er
Grey memories only bide,
But their fading lips tell more
Than all the world beside.

Love is a babble

by Robert Jones

Love is a babble,
No man is able
To say ’tis this or ’tis that.
’Tis full of passions,
Of sundry fashions,
’Tis like I cannot tell what.

Love is a fellow,
Clad oft in yellow,
The canker-worm of the mind,
A privy mischief,
And such a sly thief,
No man knows which way to find.

Love’s fair i’ th’ cradle,
Foul in the sable,
’Tis either too cold or too hot.
An arrant liar,
Fed by desire,
It is, and yet is not.

Love is a wonder,
That’s here and yonder,
As common to one as to more.
A monstrous cheater,
Every man’s debtor,
Hang him, and so let him go.

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