Page 131 - How We Lead Matters
P. 131

I met a traveler 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, stamp’d on these lifeless things,
                 The hand that mock’d them and the heart that fed.
                      And on the pedestal these words appear:
                      “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
                    Look upon 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.


                                  P ERCY S HELLEY
                                 (B RITISH POET)
                                  “O ZYMANDIAS ”
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