Poem Hunter
(1792-1822 / Horsham / England)


Poem 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. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

User Rating: 4,2 / 5 ( 235 votes ) 101

Other poems of SHELLEY (323)

Comments (101)

Ozymandias, round and decay. I mean, like many of my mind, we are fascinated with words and possible happenings, and nobody really cares about breakfast, although it may taste so exotic and tasteful. Words made patterns are our thing.
Wonderful and interesting...............................
profound and poignant////////////////
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Whenever i hear the word " colossal, " I remember this poem! Just beautiful to read again and again...