mirror_shards

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunckless legs of stone
Stand 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 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.


'In the little world yonder, Sphinx, my place is as high as yours in this great desart; only I wander and you sit still; I conquer and you endure; I work and wonder and you watch and wait; I look up and am dazzled, look down and amdarkened, look round and am puzzled; whlist your eyes never turn from looking out - out of the world- to the lost region - the home fromwhich we have strayed. Sphinx, you and I,strangers to the race of men, are no strangers to one another: have I not been conscious of you and this place since I was born?' - Caesar from 'Caesar and Cleopatra' 1945

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