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With apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley

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I met a traveller from an antique landWho said: 'One vast, decrepit wall of stoneStands in the desert. Near them, on the sand,Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,And fleshy lip, and sneer of harsh command,Tell that its sculptor well those passions readWhich yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:And on the pedestal these words app...

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