Ozymandias By Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ozymandias By Percy Bysshe Shelley Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may be For my
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
The women take so little stock
In what I do or say
They’d sooner leave their cosseting
To hear a jackass bray;
My arms are like the twisted thorn
And yet there beauty lay;
The first of all the tribe lay there
And did such pleasure take,
She who had brought great Hector down
And put all Troy to wreck,
That she cried into this ear,
‘Strike me if I shriek.’
Ozymandias By Percy Bysshe Shelley Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may be For my
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night By Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at
The Road Not Taken By Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I
The Spider And The Fly by Mary Howitt “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,“‘Tis the prettiest little parlour that
