Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.025 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.

Thou Lovest No More

by Thomas Moore

0.0488 − 0.3655i

Drawing the boundary…

The Wild Honey Suckle

by Philip Freneau

0.0342 − 0.3863i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Thou Lovest No More

by Thomas Moore

Too plain, alas, my doom is spoken
  Nor canst thou veil the sad truth o'er;
Thy heart is changed, thy vow is broken,
  Thou lovest no more—thou lovest no more.

Tho' kindly still those eyes behold me,
  The smile is gone, which once they wore;
Tho' fondly still those arms enfold me,
  'Tis not the same—thou lovest no more.

Too long my dream of bliss believing,
  I've thought thee all thou wert before;
But now—alas! there's no deceiving,
  'Tis all too plain, thou lovest no more.

Oh, thou as soon the dead couldst waken,
  As lost affection's life restore,
Give peace to her that is forsaken,
  Or bring back him who loves no more.

The Wild Honey Suckle

by Philip Freneau

Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
 Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,
 Unseen thy little branches greet:
    No roving foot shall crush thee here,
    No busy hand provoke a tear.

By Nature’s self in white arrayed,
 She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the guardian shade,
 And sent soft waters murmuring by;
    Thus quietly thy summer goes,
    Thy days declining to repose.

Smit with those charms, that must decay,
 I grieve to see your future doom;
They died –— nor were those flowers more gay,
 The flowers that did in Eden bloom;
    Unpitying frosts, and Autumn’s power
    Shall leave no vestige of this flower.

From morning suns and evening dews
 At first thy little being came:
If nothing once, you nothing lose,
 For when you die you are the same;
    The space between, is but an hour,
    The frail duration of a flower.

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