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 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".
By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1818)
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