Ozymandias
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.
"I Can't Wait to Do a Tracheotomy" and other love songs available just because you damn well want them.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Poem of the Week
Recommended by Steve Clemons of the Washongton Note, the Poem of the Week. Put here to force my brain around words other than the drivel of news, and because reading poetry slows my brain down. Makes it hurt, really, in a good way.
Labels:
poetry
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