Sunday, July 20, 2014

Poem of the Week

Napoleon at the Great Sphinx 1798


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.' 

Poem HT: Poem Hunter
Image HT:  Sacred Sites


Sue Elvis said...

I was thinking about this poem the other day! I love sharing your weekly poems, Wendy.

Wendy said...

Thanks so much, Sue! I am really enjoying choosing poems to share!