I met a grippli from an antique land
Who said: “Two webbed and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the swamp. Near them by a pond,
Half sunk, a shattered frogs head lies, whose frown
And gaping lips 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 tongue that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Froggymandias, 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 swamps stretch far away”.
CB Pye made me do it. Blame him.