Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.019 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 Some Pictures

by Bernard Barton

−0.3422 − 0.4595i

Drawing the boundary…

A Feaver

by John Donne

−0.3380 − 0.4778i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

On Some Pictures

by Bernard Barton

They err'd not who relied for fame
On works of such magnificence;
Whose charms, unchangeably the same,
Surprise and ravish soul and sense.

For here, though long since dead, they live
With power to waken smiles and tears;
And to unconscious canvass give
What lived and breathed in distant years:

What still shall captivate, when we
Who now with admiration gaze,
Like those who fashion'd them, shall be
The creatures of departed days.

Still shall that sleeping infant's face
Beauty and innocence reveal;
That sainted mother's matron grace
To every mother's heart appeal.

Those misty mountains still shall rise,
As now they do; those vales expand;
And still those torrents, trees, and skies,
Tell of each master's magic hand.

A Feaver

by John Donne

Oh doe not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember, thou wast one.

But yet thou canst not die, I know; 
To leave this world behinde, is death,
But when thou from this world wilt goe,
The whole world vapors with thy breath.

Or if, when thou, the worlds soule, go'st,
It stay, 'tis but thy carkasse then, 
The fairest woman, but thy ghost,
But corrupt wormes, the worthyest men.

O wrangling schooles, that search what fire
Shall burne this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire, 
That this her feaver might be it?

And yet she cannot wast by this,
Nor long beare this torturing wrong,
For much corruption needfull is
To fuell such a feaver long. 

These burning fits but meteors bee,
Whose matter in thee is soone spent.
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,
Are unchangeable firmament.

Yet 'twas of my minde, seising thee, 
Though it in thee cannot perséver;
For I had rather owner bee
Of thee one houre, then all else ever.

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