The so-called Ozymandias statue in the Ramesseum, Luxor, Egypt. One of two fragmented statues the inspired the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley to write Ozymandias. Quoting the Wikipedia article:
‘The next visitor of note was Giovanni Belzoni, a showman and engineer of Italian origin and, latterly, an archaeologist and antiques dealer. Belzoni’s travels took him in 1815 to Cairo, where he sold Mehemet Ali a hydraulic engine of his own invention. There he met British Consul General Henry Salt, who hired his services to collect from the temple in Thebes the so-called ‘Younger Memnon’, one of two colossal granite heads depicting Ramesses II, and transport it to England. Thanks to Belzoni’s hydraulics and his skill as an engineer (Napoleon’s men had failed in the same endeavour a decade or so earlier), the 7-ton stone head arrived in London in 1818, where it was dubbed “The Younger Memnon” and, some years later, given pride of place in the British Museum.
It was against the backdrop of intense excitement surrounding the statue’s arrival, and having heard wondrous tales of other, less transportable treasures still in the desert, that the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley penned his sonnet “Ozymandias”. In particular, one massive fallen statue at the Ramesseum is now inextricably linked with Shelley, because of the cartouche on its shoulder bearing Ramesses’s throne name, User-maat-re Setep-en-re, the first part of which Diodorus transliterated into Greek as “Ozymandias”. While Shelley’s “vast and trunkless legs of stone” owe more to poetic license than to archaeology, the “half sunk… shattered visage” lying on the sand is an accurate description of part of the wrecked statue. The hands, and the feet, lie nearby. Were it still standing, the Ozymandias colossus would tower 19 m (62 ft) above the ground, rivalling the Colossi of Memnon and the statues of Ramesses carved into the mountain at Abu Simbel.'
Percy Bysshe Shelley’s Ozymandias:
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.