Ode to the West Wind
The wind from the west may just seem a
wild wrecker; in fact, there’s a gleam o’
some hope in the seeds,
cries Shelley, who bleeds,
in sonnets with Dantean rima.
Ozymandias
You may think you’re supreme, with no peer,
carving statues and words to cause fear.
You’ll feel pretty humbled
when your statue has crumbled
and all that is left is your sneer.
(Just tinkering with this last one to try to make the comparison less embarrassing with Roger's directly below.)
[This message has been edited by Gregory Dowling (edited May 22, 2006).]
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