Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.024 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.

Youth and Age

by Thomas Moore

0.1653 − 0.2898i

Drawing the boundary…

Send Her a Valentine

by Edgar A. Guest

0.1488 − 0.3074i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

Youth and Age

by Thomas Moore

"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day,
To drooping Age, who crest his way.—
"It is a sunny hour of play,
"For which repentance dear doth pay;
"Repentance! Repentance!
"And this is Love, as wise men say."

"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth once more,
Fearful, yet fond, of Age's lore.—
"Soft as a passing summer's wind,
"Wouldst know the blight it leaves behind?
"Repentance! Repentance!
"And this is Love—when love is o'er."

"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth again,
Trusting the bliss, but not the pain.
"Sweet as a May tree's scented air—
"Mark ye what bitter fruit 'twill bear,
"Repentance! Repentance!
"This, this is Love—sweet Youth, beware."

Just then, young Love himself came by,
And cast on Youth a smiling eye;
Who could resist that glance's ray?
In vain did Age his warning say,
"Repentance! Repentance!"
Youth laughing went with Love away.

Send Her a Valentine

by Edgar A. Guest

Send her a valentine to say
You love her in the same old way.
Just drop the long familiar ways
And live again the old-time days
When love was new and youth was bright
And all was laughter and delight,
And treat her as you would if she
Were still the girl that used to be.

Pretend that all the years have passed
Without one cold and wintry blast;
That you are coming still to woo
Your sweetheart as you used to do;
Forget that you have walked along
The paths of life where right and wrong
And joy and grief in battle are,
And play the heart without a scar.

Be what you were when youth was fine
And send to her a valentine;
Forget the burdens and the woe
That have been given you to know
And to the wife, so fond and true,
The pledges of the past renew.
'Twill cure her life of every ill
To find that you're her sweetheart still.

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