Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.018 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.

The Call

by Jessie Pope

−0.3536 − 0.7807i

Drawing the boundary…

The Stream of Life

by Arthur Hugh Clough

−0.3388 − 0.7914i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

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

The Call

by Jessie Pope

Who's for the trench—
Are you, my laddie
Who'll follow French—
Will you, my laddie
Who's fretting to begin,
Who's going out to win
And who wants to save his skin—
Do you, my laddie

Who's for the khaki suit—
Are you, my laddie
Who longs to charge and shoot—
Do you, my laddie
Who's keen on getting fit,
Who means to show his grit,
And who'd rather wait a bit—
Would you, my laddie

Who'll earn the Empire's thanks—
Will you, my laddie
Who'll swell the victor's ranks—
Will you, my laddie
When that procession comes,
Banners and rolling drums—
Who'll stand and bite his thumbs—
Will you, my laddie

The Stream of Life

by Arthur Hugh Clough

O stream descending to the sea,
Thy mossy banks between,
The flow’rets blow, the grasses grow,
The leafy trees are green.

In garden plots the children play,
The fields the labourers till,
And houses stand on either hand,
And thou descendest still.

O life descending into death,
Our waking eyes behold,
Parent and friend thy lapse attend,
Companions young and old.

Strong purposes our mind possess,
Our hearts affections fill,
We toil and earn, we seek and learn,
And thou descendest still.

O end to which our currents tend,
Inevitable sea,
To which we flow, what do we know,
What shall we guess of thee?

A roar we hear upon thy shore,
As we our course fulfil;
Scarce we divine a sun will shine
And be above us still.

—
—
0:00
0:00
Track 1
Skip to main content