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.

On True Worship

by Bernard Barton

−0.3624 + 0.7574i

Drawing the boundary…

The day is gone

by John Keats

−0.3506 + 0.7862i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

On True Worship

by Bernard Barton

The patriarch worshipp'd leaning on his staff!
And well, methinks, it were, if such our creed
That we, in every hour of truest need,
From the same hidden fount could inly quaff:
We trust in outward aids too much by half!
Could we within on "living bread" but feed,
And drink of living streams, our souls would heed
All hindering helps but as the husk and chaff.
Then every day were holy! every hour
Each heart's true homage might ascend on high,
Ascribing to the Eternal Majesty,
And to the Lamb, thanksgiving, glory, power,
Now and for ever! till the ample dower
Of earth's full praise with that of heaven should vie.

The day is gone

by John Keats

The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,
Bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and lang’rous waist!
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,
Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,
Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,
Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise –
Vanish’d unseasonably at shut of eve,
When the dusk holiday – or holinight
Of fragrant-curtain’d love begins to weave
The woof of darkness thick, for hid delight,
But, as I’ve read love’s missal through to-day,
He’ll let me sleep, seeing I fast and pray.

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