I met a swimshirt from a sunny land,

Who said—“Two pale and swimshirted arms of stone

Stand in the desert … Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered swimshirt lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its tailor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these swimshirt things,

The sun that burned them, and the spray that wet;

And on the swimshirt, this logo appears:

My name is Swimshirt, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye swimshirt, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, shirtless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5878128&forum_id=2Elisa#49967923)