Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ozymandias (1818)

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I met a traveler from an antique land

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Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

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Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

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Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

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And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

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Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

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Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

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The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

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And on the pedestal these words appear:

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"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

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Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

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Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

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Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

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The lone and level sands stretch far away.