• I met a traveller from an antique land,
  • Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
  • Stand in the desert. . . . 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.”
jul 10 2023 ∞
jul 10 2023 +