00:00I met a traveller from an antique land who said,
00:08Too vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert.
00:13Near them, on the sand, have sunk and shattered visage lies
00:18Whose frown and wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
00:23Tell that its sculpture, while those passions are red
00:26Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things
00:31The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed
00:36And on the pedestal these words appear
00:39My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings
00:45Look on my works, ye mighty in despair
00:52Nothing beside remains, round the decay of that colossal wreck
00:58Boundless and bare, the lone and level sands
01:03Stretch far away
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