|
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
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