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 shatter'd 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;
Despite collapsing and eroding, the distinct images of power remain. Shelley notes the irony of such powerful, arrogant features appearing on a wasted, broken depiction. 
 Note the grim finality of the verb ‘stamped’. It almost acts as a form of branding: what is left of Ozymandias is one man’s living characteristics interpreted by others. 
 This line could be read more optimistically: power may fade, but something  does  survive the ravages of time, and that is art and the artist’s vision … and also the timelessness and popularity of a poem like Shelley’s.
Ozymandias