I ran into a tourist from an old land,
Who said—"Two vast and untop'd shins of rock
Stand in sand… not far away,
Half sunk a smash-up mask sits;
Its frown and snarl of cold command
Show its sculptor was good at portraying passions
Which stay on in rocky form,
Hand mocking, soul taking;
And on its plinth, this:
I am Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, o Mighty, and cry out!
Nothing past this to find. Round this colossal Carcass, to all horizons
Span flat sands without occupation."

Sign in to chat along (Mark II)

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