The Hub

Percy Shelley's "Ozymandias" 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 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 Percy B. Shelley

Ode to the West Wind BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY I am autumn I   O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,  Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead  Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,  Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,  Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,  Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed  The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,  Each like a corpse within its grave, until  Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow  Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill  (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)  With living hues and odours plain and hill:  Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;  Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear!  I am your fields II   Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky's commotion,  L...