trunkless half sunk shattered visage sneer of cold command sculptor well those passions read pedestal king of kings Look on my works... and despair! Nothing beside remains. decay Of that colossal wreck boundless and bare lone and level sands stretch far away chartered marks of woe Repetition of In every every infant's cry of fear mind-forged manacles HEAR chimney sweepers cry blackening church appalls Runs in blood down palace walls youthful harlot's curse blights with plagues the marriage hearse as if she were alive Fra Pandolf The curtain I have drawn not Her husband's presence only spot of joy too easily impressed her looks went everywhere ranked my nine-hundred-years-old name I gave commands... and all smiles stopped Notice Neptune... Taming a sea-horse Claus of Innsbruck Suddenly he awoke numb as a smashed arm patriotic tear... brimmed like molten iron cold clockwork of the stars and nations yellow hare that rolled like a flame green hedge King, honour, human dignity, etcetera Dropped like luxuries in a yelling alarm His terror's touchy dynamite Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward blundered Anaphora of Cannon Theirs not to reason why Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Not the six hundred. Honour the Light Brigade! Noble six hundred!