Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.021 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.

Peace be around thee

by Thomas Moore

−0.2622 + 0.0031i

Drawing the boundary…

Down in the depth of mine iniquity

by Fulke Greville

−0.2665 − 0.0174i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Peace be around thee

by Thomas Moore

Peace be around thee, wherever thou rov'st;
May life be for thee one summer's day,
And all that thou wishest and all that thou lov'st
Come smiling around thy sunny way!
If sorrow e'er this calm should break,
May even thy tears pass off so lightly,
Like spring-showers, they'll only make
The smiles, that follow shine more brightly.

May Time who sheds his blight o'er all
And daily dooms some joy to death
O'er thee let years so gently fall,
They shall not crush one flower beneath.
As half in shade and half in sun
This world along its path advances.
May that side the sun's upon
Be all that e'er shall meet thy glances!

Down in the depth of mine iniquity

by Fulke Greville

Down in the depth of mine iniquity,
That ugly center of infernal spirits,
Where each sin feels her own deformity
In these peculiar torments she inherits—
Deprived of human graces and divine,
Even there appears this saving God of mine.

And in this fatal mirror of transgression,
Shows man as fruit of his degeneration,
The error's ugly infinite impression,
Which bears the faithless down to desperation.
Deprived of human graces and divine,
Even there appears this saving God of mine.

In power and truth, almighty and eternal,
Which on the sin reflects strange desolation,
With glory scourging all the spirits infernal,
And uncreated hell with unprivation—
Deprived of human graces, not divine,
Even there appears this saving God of mine.

For on this spiritual cross condemnëd lying
To pains infernal by eternal doom,
I see my Saviour for the same sins dying,
And from that hell I feared, to free me, come.
Deprived of human graces, not divine,
Thus hath his death raised up this soul of mine.

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