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Post Info TOPIC: A little Shelley for a Sunday morning
Jameela Lares

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A little Shelley for a Sunday morning
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Last night I was asked by someone to post this sonnet by the English poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1827).  This is the text on www.bartleby.com.  It's frequently anthologized, so many of you may recognize it.







Ozymandias of Egypt



 



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 shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
 

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
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Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
 

Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
 

The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
 

And on the pedestal these words appear:
 

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
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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.


 


(Now, back to packing.  JL)



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foot soldier

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Jameela! How did you do that? I was just thinking of that very poem this very morning in relation to someone we both know. I had to memorize it in 3rd or 4th grade. Is there something in the board the transmits psychically?!?

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Robert Campbell

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Jameela,


A perfect choice!


So who wins the contest for massivenss of ego: Ramses II (one of whose royal names was rendered into Greek as Ozymandias), or Shelby Thames?


Robert Campbell


 



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ram

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Listening to SFT, I often reflect on the old saw, "Well done is better than well said." and am reminded of e.e. cummings:





"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke.  And drank rapidly a glass of water





At the risk of appearing political, perhaps a broader application is possible.



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truth4usm/AH

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I love how people turn to poetry to express their feelings in these sorts of times.  Plastic may be the future (to misquote The Graduate), but poetry is the past, present AND future! 


Check out this site:  http://www.poems.com/  if you love poetry...it ROCKS!



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