I met a traveller from an antique land
I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desart.[d] 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.
— Percy Shelley, "Ozymandias", 1819 edition
I met a traveler from an ancient place Who said: Two huge, broken legs of stone Stand in the desert. Close by, on the sand, Half buried, a broken face lies, with a frown, And a wrinkled lip, and a sneer of cold authority, Show that the sculptor understood those emotions well Which still exist, marked on these lifeless objects, The hand that mocked them and the heart that nourished: And on the base, these words are written: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look at my achievements, you powerful, and feel hopeless!" Nothing else remains. Around the ruin Of that giant wreck, empty and bare The solitary and flat sands stretch far away.