OR me, my friend, if not that tears did tremble In my faint eyes, and that my heart beat fast With feelings which make rapture pain resemble, Yet, from thy voice that falsehood starts aghast, I thank thee-let the tyrant keep His chains and tears, yea let him weep Like strength from slumber, from the prison, In which he vainly hoped the soul to bind Which on the chains must prey that fetter humankind. His looks were wild, and Devils' blood The Father and the Son Knew that strife was now begun. They knew that Satan had broken his chain, And with millions of demons in his train, Was ranging over the world again. Before the Angel had told his tale, A sweet and a creeping sound Like the rushing of wings was heard around; And suddenly the lamps grew pale The lamps, before the Archangels seven, That burn continually in heaven. Ozymandias MET a traveller from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunk less 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. weather I. ONEY from silkworms who can gather, Or silk from the yellow bee? The grass may grow in winter As soon as hate in me. II. Hate men who cant, and men who pray, And men who rail like thee; An equal passion to repay They are not coy like me. III. Or seek some slave of power and gold, To be thy dear heart's mate, |