Show i I Old I I met a traveler from om an antique land Who said Two vast and legs ot if stone Stand in inthe the desert Near them on the sand Halt Half sunk a battered visage lies whose And wrinkled Up lip and sneer ot of cold command Tell that Its w well ll those n passions read react Which yet survive stamped on these lifeless things i The hand that mocked knocked them and the heart that fed And on the ped pedestal stal these thes words appear My name Is king of kings Look on m my works ye Mighty and despaIr C Nothing sl be-sl beside e remains Round the deca decay Ot Of that colossal wreck boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch tar far away P. B. B Shelley Oz ot of Eg Egypt pt |