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 Bysshe Shelley, "Ozymandias"

 

And on a lighter note:

I'm Mr. White Christmas
I'm Mr. Sun
I'm Mr. Icicle
I'm Mr. 101
They call me Iowa Miser
Whatever I touch
Could freeze or melt in my clutch
I'm too much!

In winter it could be 2 below
or over 50 degrees
In summer you just never know
If you'll roast or if you'll freeze!

I'm Mr. Green Christmas
I'm Mr. Snow
I'm Mr. Heat Blister
I'm Mr. 10 Below
They call me Iowa Miser
Whatever I touch
Could freeze or melt in my clutch
I'm too much!

TOO MUCH!

(My apologies to Snow Miser and Heat Miser
from "The Year Without a Santa Claus."--KJ)