Ozymandias

• Part one

  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.”