Ozymandias - by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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.

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.