Category: Working with Shelley

Ozymandias I met a traveller from an antique landWho said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desart … 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 readWhich yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,The hand…