I met a traveller from an antique land, |
Who said--"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone |
Stand in the desart....Near them, on the sand, |
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, |
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, |
|
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read |
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, |
|
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; |
And on the pedestal, these words appear: |
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
|
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! |
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay |
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare |
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Shelley, Percy Bysshe. "Ozymandias." Literary Selections. Compiled by J. Massengill. 18 June 2005. http://coastalbend.home.att.net/lit
|