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 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.🏁