Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.029 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 and On

by Mathilde Blind

0.1086 − 0.7017i

Drawing the boundary…

Three Songs

by A. Mary F. Robinson

0.1377 − 0.7005i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

On and On

by Mathilde Blind

By long leagues of wood and meadow
On and on we drive apace;
In the dreamy light and shadow
Veiling earth's autumnal face.

Rosy clouds are drifting o'er us,
Rooks rise parleying from their tryst,
And the road lies far before us,
Fading into amethyst.

On and on, through leagues of heather,
Deeps of scarlet beaded lane,
Like a pheasant's golden feather
Golden leaves around us rain.

On and on, where woodlands hoary,
In October's lavish fire,
Flame up with unearthly glory,
Beauteous summer's funeral pyre.

On and on, where casements blinking
Lighten into transient gules,
As the dying day in sinking
Splashes all the wayside pools.

On and on; the land grows dimmer,
And our road recedes afar;
While on either hand there glimmer
Setting sun and rising star.

Would I knew what thoughts steal o'er you,
As the long road lengthens yet:
Ah, like hope it winds before you,
And behind me like regret.

Three Songs

by A. Mary F. Robinson

I.

A heart as deep as the sea,
A heart as vast as the sky,
Thou shouldest have given to me,
O Spirit, since I must die!

For how shall I feel and attain
The joy and the fear and the strife,
The hope of the world and the pain
In the few short years of a life?

II.

The flocks that bruise the mountain grass
Send out beneath their feet
Such thymy fragrance as they pass,
That all the fell is sweet.

Sometimes a stranger breathes thy name,
O Love of long ago!
And in my heart there leaps to flame
A long-remembered woe.

III.

Thou sentest them an angel, Lord,
Since they were precious in Thine eyes,
An angel with a flaming sword,
To drive them out of Paradise.

For thus they kept the dream of bliss,
The hope in something out of sight,
Nor ever knew how sad it is
To weary of our best delight.

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