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Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal. Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood by all, but which the wise, and great, and good interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Interpretation

What this quote means

The quote suggests that nature holds truths that can only be grasped by the wise and virtuous.

In this quote, Percy Bysshe Shelley speaks to the profound, often overlooked wisdom found in nature, particularly in the metaphor of a mighty mountain. He implies that while many may fail to comprehend the deeper meanings and lessons inherent in the natural world, those who are wise, good, and great can interpret and appreciate these truths, suggesting that understanding comes from a place of moral and intellectual depth.

Themes

NatureWisdomMountainTruthInterpretation

In practice

Example use cases

Using this quote during a speech on the importance of environmental awareness.

More from Percy Bysshe Shelley

A dream has power to poison sleep.
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Senseless is the breast and cold _x000D_ _x000D_ Which relenting love would fold;_x000D_ _x000D_ Bloodless are the veins and chill _x000D_ _x000D_ Which the pulse of pain did fill; _x000D_ _x000D_ Every little living nerve _x000D_ _x000D_ That from bitter words did swerve _x000D_ _x000D_ Round the tortur'd lips and brow, _x000D_ _x000D_ Are like sapless leaflets now _x000D_ _x000D_ Frozen upon December's bough.
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A sensitive plant in a garden grew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And the young winds fed it with silver dew,_x000D_ _x000D_ And it opened its fan_x000D_ _x000D_ like leaves to the light,_x000D_ _x000D_ and closed them beneath the kisses of night.
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I am the daughter of Earth and Water, And the nursling of the Sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I cannot die. For after the rain when with never a stain The pavilion of Heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air, I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, And out of the caverns of rain, Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, I arise and unbuild it again.
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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
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Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
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