Ozymandias
I met a traveler 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 upon 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.