Walter E. Ferguson III
A descendant from a traveller to an antique land
That Shelley wrote of with poetic hand
Returned to see Ozymandias.
'I saw, ' said he, ' No trunkless legs of stone;
'And of that shattered visage nothing remains
'Of that frown, and wrinkled lip of cold disdain.
'But perhaps, I heard a moan, from underground perceived a groan
'From hell. 'I am Ozymanias, ' the pedestal still read, and that was all.''
Around the pedestal was nothing but desert sand:
No sign of awe or despair was sustained in the land
And no one the king or...