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I
The first line of Shelley’s poem presents readers with a rather lofty subject: “The everlasting universe of things.” The description directly refers to the mountain surveyed by the speaker: Mont Blanc. Mont Blanc is the highest mountain peak in the Alps and rests partially in France, Italy, and Switzerland. In its sublimity, the mountain itself represents this “everlasting universe” (Line 1). The adjective “everlasting” (Line 1) is especially daunting, as it denotes endlessness and immortality. The universe always was and always has been and is all around the (as of yet) disembodied third-person speaker. However, the noun “things” at the end of the line contrasts with this loftiness, sounding more trivial and ambiguous. It is especially out of place given the supreme grandeur of the mountain. The universe is composed of so many objects that all of them are nearly unidentifiable when taken collectively; they are simply “things” (Line 1). The “universe” takes on the shape and qualities of water in the next few lines, relating to the natural landscape the speaker describes. The “everlasting universe of things” (Line 1) “flows” and “rolls its rapid waves” (Line 2) both in the “mind” (Line 2) of the speaker and in the minds of every individual. This apparition of the universe is amorphous and fluid, constantly changing how individuals perceive it. The ambiguity of the universe’s descriptions continues as the speaker describes its changing states. One minute, the universe may seem “dark” (Line 3) while the next it may seem “glittering” (Line 3). One second the universe may be “reflecting gloom” (Line 3) while the next second it may be “lending splendour” (Line 4).
This “splendour” (Line 4) the wonders and beauty of the natural world creates supplies “the source of human thought” (Line 5) that arises from “secret springs” (Line 4). These “secret springs” symbolize the mysterious and intangible sources of inspiration and understanding humans use to make sense of the world. Line 5 offers an intriguing word order, with the subject “source of human thought” followed by the direct object “its tribute” and then the verb “brings.” Proper syntactical structure would have the direct object come after the verb. This shift in word order puts emphasis on the “tribute” (Line 5) that Mont Blanc’s natural wonders bring forth for the reader and for all visitors. The natural beauty of the scene is so inspiring and moving that the speaker equates it with the “source” of all “human thought” (Line 5), highlighting how truly exceptional the natural scenery is. A “tribute” is defined as “something given or contributed voluntarily as due or deserved” or “a payment by one ruler or nation to another in acknowledgment of submission or as the price of protection” (“tribute.” Merriam-Webster, 2022.). It is unclear through the poem’s phrasing to whom or what the “source of human thought” (Line 5) gives this offering, whether to the visitors or to the natural setting, etc. Typically, tributes imply deference or respect and admiration, and in this situation the visitors and speaker would ideally be the ones giving tribute to Mont Blanc itself. The hierarchy of the “everlasting universe of things” (Line 1) seems just as fluid as its shape and overall existence.
This “tribute” the speaker then specifically identifies as “waters”; emphasis for this particular term is added as the speaker states this at the very beginning of Line 6 after the preceding enjambment. This clarification sheds light on the ambiguity discussed in the previous paragraph. Mont Blanc sheds waters from its snowy mountaintops to pay tribute to the surrounding universe. The quality of these “waters” (Line 6) reconnect to the “everlasting” quality of the world discussed at the very opening of the poem. The “waters” (Line 6) have “a sound but half its own” (Line 6), meaning that the waters the speaker views provide part of the sound they hear, but the rest of the sound comes from elsewhere. To clarify this further, the speaker provides an analogy: Just as a “feeble brook” (Line 7) located “In the wild woods” that winds “among the mountains lone” (Line 8) makes noise amid the natural landscape, so do the “waterfalls around it” (Line 9) that “leap for ever” (Line 9). The sounds of the small brook may be too weak and subdued to create echoes, but the cacophony of the waterfalls that surround it create such strong reverberations that their echoes resound endlessly among the surrounding mountains. In this sense, the echoes of the waterfalls live forever “[w]here woods and winds contend” (Line 10) and even where “a vast river / Over its rocks ceaselessly bursts” (Lines 10 - 11). All of the elements combine to create a natural symphony of Mont Blanc, where the sounds of its waters mix with everything else around to create a sense of immortality. The adverb “ceaselessly” indicates that this cycle of sounds and movement will continue into perpetuity.
II
This second portion of the work shifts away from a disembodied speaker to an apostrophe, or a direct address to an inanimate object, absent individual, or nonhuman entity. The speaker specifically addresses the “Ravine of Arve” (Line 12) and readers can now assume that this specific ravine, or gorge, is the watery tribute of Mont Blanc described in detail in the preceding section. The Arve is a river that runs through France and Switzerland and receives water from the Chamonix Valley located north of Mont Blanc. Even when the speaker does not state the full name “Ravine of Arve” (Line 12), they still capitalize “Ravine” when it is used as a common noun, personifying it and making it into its own entity. The speaker describes this ravine, the source of the thundering sounds of water previously detailed, as “dark” and “deep” (Line 12). In addition to the auditory wonders of the setting with its “many-voiced” (Line 13) components (wind, water, echoes, etc.), the speaker also refers to the visual splendor of the scene. The ravine is “many-colour’d” (Line 13) with its plethora of “pines,” “crags,” and “caverns” (Line 14). This diverse scene also boasts “cloud-shadows” (Line 15) and “sunbeams” (Line 15). The contrasting elements of light and dark in this description again highlight the amorphous and shifting qualities of the area.
The colon that follows “sunbeams” makes readers pause a bit longer than a comma would, thus making sure readers are paying attention to what comes next and signaling its significance. What comes after the colon is an appositive, or a word or phrase renaming what comes before it. The speaker categorizes all of the natural wonders as an “awful scene” (Line 15). “Awful” in this sense does not refer to something “dreadful” or “bad,” but rather something “awe-inspiring.” As mentioned in the opening section of the poem, the power of nature is inspiring and energizing. This particular scene is so inspirational because that is where “Power” (Line 16) exists “in likeness of the Arve” (Line 16). The river Arve, a river that runs through France and Switzerland, is the guise assumed by the “Power” of the universe. The capitalization of “Power” personifies this energy, making it into an omnipotent force woven throughout nature. The speaker describes the route of the Arve as falling “From the ice-gulfs” (Line 17) that surround “his secret throne” (Line 17). It is interesting to note that this all-powerful natural force has a masculine pronoun, especially since nature is often feminized. The fact that the Arve “comes down” (Line 16) through Mont Blanc indicates that it flows from a great height—so high that the origin of its waters is “secret” (Line 17). This point will be reiterated in the third section of the poem. Using metaphor, the speaker elaborates on the power of the river, equating its “[b]ursting through these dark mountains” (Line 18) like “lightning” (Line 19) strikes through a storm, or “tempest” (Line 19). Equating the river’s power to that of lightning helps to make it more comprehensible for the reader.
The speaker once again elaborates on the eternality of the natural world in the following lines. According to the speaker, the Arve lies with a “giant brood of pines” (Line 20) that cling to its banks. By referring to the trees as the river’s “brood,” the speaker implies that they are the river’s offspring. In addition to being powerful, the Arve gains another trait: life-giving. The speaker even specifically refers to these trees as “Children of elder time” (Line 21). The trees may be “Children” and progeny of the river, but they are ancient in and of themselves. Just as the trees connect with the river in the interconnecting web of life and time, so are the trees connected to the wind. The winds that blow through the pines are “chainless “(Line 22), meaning they are not connected and are free-moving. These winds, according to the speaker, have been around for just as long as the trees, as they note that they “come and ever came” (Line 22). The winds have been coming for ages, seemingly for “ever” (Line 22), to enjoy the “odours” (Line 23) of the pines and to listen to the “mighty swinging” (Line 23) of the pines creating their “old and solemn harmony” (Line 24). This omnipotent “Power” (Line 16) of nature and human inspiration continues to be intricately woven together, combining the natural with the spiritual, the tangible with the intangible.
The speaker employs juxtaposition to enhance the reader’s comprehension of the physical/spiritual binary present in the poem. In the Arve’s falling waters, “earthly rainbows” (Line 25) arc over an “aethereal waterfall” (Line 26). Rainbows, while visible to the human eye, are immaterial refractions of light, as opposed to “earthly” (Line 25) and physical objects. Waterfalls, on the other hand, are quite physical, plying the viewer’s senses of sight, sound and touch. They are quite the opposite of “ethereal” (the more contemporary spelling of “aethereal”), which typically refers to something not of this world or something extremely delicate. This juxtaposition increases the reader’s mystery of the natural world and all it has to offer the human mind. After the speaker has described the exterior landscape of the Arve, they decide to delve further and deeper into what lies beneath its surface. Behind the “veil” (Line 26) of the waterfall lies “some unsculptur’d image” (Line 27) that is hidden from view. Describing the form that lies behind the waterfall as “unsculptur’d” indicates that it has not been molded or formed yet. The block of rock or whatever material lies behind the misty cover of the waterfall is full of possibilities. Viewers can see in it what they will if they dare to explore deeper with the speaker. This component of the natural landscape is open to individual interpretation. Behind the waterfall, where this possibility lies, the setting reminds the speaker of a “strange sleep” (Line 27). This strange sleep is that “[w]hich when the voices of the desert fail” (Line 28) leads all to a “deep eternity” (Line 29). These “voices of the desert” (Line 28) could symbolically refer to the voices or mirages one hears when they are lost in a desert alone, or they could more broadly refer to signs of life amid absolute nothingness or despair. Whatever the implication, when all signs of life are gone, all that is left is death, or “deep eternity” (29). The reference to “eternity” (Line 29) echoes the references to endlessness and interconnection the speaker mentions earlier in the poem.
Eternity, the absence of time and space, parallels the “caverns” (Line 30) located behind the Arve’s waterfall. Within these open abysses echoes “the Arve’s commotion” (Line 30). The sounds that the Arve makes are “loud” and “lone” (Line 31), meaning they are singular and unique. There is nothing else that compares to the sounds of the Arve and nothing as powerful and impactful. In fact, the sound of the Arve is one that “no other sound can tame” (Line 31). As this second stanza of the poem continues, the speaker continues to muse on the omnipotent and eternal qualities of the Arve and the surrounding landscape of Mont Blanc. The Arve is “pervaded” with “ceaseless motion” (Line 32). “Pervaded” means that the river is imbued or filled with this endless motion. This could refer to the constant movement of water down the Arve’s banks, or, on a deeper level, to the endless motion of time and the constant shifting of the universe. The speaker also identifies the Arve as having “unresting sound” (Line 33). Again, this could refer to the repetitive sounds of the river as it flows along its “path” (Line 33), or it could refer to the integration of the water’s sounds with those of the wind and trees in a universal harmony. These “unresting” (Line 33) sounds keep playing on without cessation.
The next line opens with an exclamation as the speaker addresses the surrounding landscape itself as an individual entity, exclaiming “Dizzy Ravine!” (Line 34). Here “dizzy” characterizes the shape and movement of the ravine with its flowing waters contrasting with the soaring heights of Mont Blanc. Yet, the adjective seems to apply more to the speaker. For the first time, the speaker refers to themself directly using the first-person pronoun “I.” The preceding lines were all focused on describing the appearance of the natural setting and the interconnectedness and perpetuation of all things. Now though, the speaker details the impact of this scenery on their mind. The “dizzy” (Line 34) descriptor indicates the speaker’s inability to definitively pinpoint their thoughts and emotions. As they look at Mont Blanc and the Arve, they are “in a trance sublime and strange” (Line 35). Being in a “trance” implies the speaker is mesmerized by the natural wonders around them. Nature is so powerful that it essentially hypnotizes its onlookers with its awe-inspiring and incomprehensible power. Also, the word “trance” implies some sort of removal from reality. Something that is “sublime” (Line 35) likewise indicates that something is too grandiose to be fully comprehended; it is beyond human understanding. Though the speaker describes the reality of what they are seeing all around them, they cannot help but “muse” (Line 36), or ponder, their “own separate fantasy” (Line 36). Here again is an example of another binary present in Shelley’s poem. The reality of nature contrasts with the fantasy the speaker gets drawn into as they gaze about them. They are so inspired by nature that they begin creating in their own mind. This drive to create may occur as a result of the incomprehensibility they experience.
The speaker goes into more detail about how the mind functions when presented with such sublime surroundings. They pointedly refer to the “human mind” (Line 37), giving the poem a more technical and anatomical tone. The mind “passively” (Line 37) takes in the natural wonders of the world, just absorbing what the body sees and storing it in the brain. The “fast influencings” (Line 38)—the external stimuli of sight, sound, and touch—are what the mind “renders and receives” (Line 38) as it files away this information. The speaker identifies this absorption of information as an “unremitting interchange” (Line 39). “Unremitting” indicates that these stimuli are ceaseless and unabating. They just keep coming at the speaker, constantly probing their way into their mind. This is fitting given the undulating and constant motion of the universe and nature the speaker describes earlier. This transfer of stimuli occurs between the speaker and “the clear universe of things around” (Line 40). Here is the culmination of the connection the speaker has been describing since the beginning of the poem. All things are interconnected—the river to the trees, to the wind, and now, even the human mind can tap into the everlasting existence of the universe. The repetition of “universe of things” (Line 40) echoes the same phrase stated in the first line of the poem, helping to bring the ending of this second section even closer toward completion and resolution.
The musings of the speaker inspired by the Arve and Mont Blanc take on a life of their own, showing the power of the human mind. The speaker may seem physically passive as they receive the external stimuli of nature (which would be a very one-sided interchange, indeed), but what they return to the universe and contribute are “[o]ne legion of wild thoughts” (Line 41). A “legion” refers to something that is vast or large in number, and “wild” indicates that these musings have no order or structure but are rather disorganized. These thoughts have free reign of the universe as they “float” (Line 42) about on “wandering wings” (Line 41). The musings seem to touch upon everything before them, retracing the detailed descriptions the speaker has just given of the Arve and Mont Blanc. The thoughts are as varied as the different binaries the speaker has conveyed throughout the poem. One minute they may “float above thy darkness” (Line 42), and the next they may “rest” (Line 42). “Thy” refers back to the “Dizzy Ravine” specifically, the source of all of this inspiration. Beyond the ravine with its river and mountain backdrop, “thy” refers more broadly to the expansive universe and everything in it. When the thoughts of the speaker seem to rest, ending their flight and ceaseless motion, they do so where “that or thou art no unbidden guest” (Line 43). “That” serves as a pronoun replacing the “darkness” mentioned in the preceding line while “thou” refers back to the ravine/river. They are welcome into “the still cave of the witch Poesy” (Line 44) because of the inspiration they provide. Darkness, while it often seems frightening or conveys negative attributes, can lead to new discoveries and revelations. The river and the natural landscape are fodder for the imagination (specifically for writing poetry) with their beauty and sublimity. These musings and inspirations help the speaker to create their poetry, here represented by the “witch Poesy” (Line 44). By capitalizing “Poesy” the speaker personifies this creative act as an entity in and of itself, and by labeling it as a “witch,” they give the act of writing a nearly supernatural and otherworldly quality. This reference fits with the “fantasy” reference given a few lines earlier in the poem. Writing and enjoying one’s natural surroundings has the ability, according to the speaker, to transport the writer (and the reader) to other realms. However, this ability isn’t open to everyone, as Poesy lies hidden and covered in a “cave” (Line 44), a location that must first be discovered, excavated and explored.
All of the thoughts and musings the speaker has from the Arve/Mont Blanc and that inspire their writing carry traces of this natural scenery. Each thought can be directly traced back to the beauty of this natural setting. The thoughts are “shadows” (Line 45) or “ghosts” (Line 46) that reflect “all things that are” or “some shade of thee” (Line 46). “Thee” (Line 46) indicates the Arve/ravine itself and its connection to all existence. Every thought that the speaker has connects them to the larger universe and to the physical environment they find themselves in. The reference to “ghosts” (Line 46) and “phantom[s]” (Line 47) fits with the mention of “witch” (Line 44), as all carry with them some supernatural or mystical element. These references add a whimsical element to the text. All of the speaker’s thoughts pass through the world like these otherworldly and invisible entities, unseen and unheard yet all carrying the remnants of “some faint image” (Line 47) of the natural inspiration from which they came. When the “breast” (Line 47), or the physical person from whom the thoughts came, “recalls them” or begins to reflect more somberly and deeply upon them, the speaker claims “thou art there” (Line 48). “Thou” once more harkens back to the ravine/mountain. This last line of the section drives home the interconnectedness of all things in the universe. By seeing and being inspired by the wonders of Mont Blanc and the Arve, these natural fixtures become a part of the speaker and all who look upon them. The reference to “breast” in this second to last line of Section 2 indicates to readers that while the musings and thoughts of the speaker begin in the mind, they end and become incorporated in the speaker’s heart, their center for passion and emotion.
III
In the opening to section three, the speaker relates how reality can often be conflated with imagination or the unconscious. This continues to play on the binary pairs and juxtaposition employed earlier in the poem: physical versus spiritual, reality versus fantasy, etc. The speaker muses how some individuals see “gleams” (Line 49) or glimpses “of a remoter world” (Line 49) while they are asleep. This “remoter world” relates to the dreams or visions an individual sees while they sleep, with often impossible or otherworldly imagery and scenarios. It could also refer to a literal “other” world or dimension only accessible when the unconscious mind takes over. These visions specifically touch the “soul” (Line 50), meaning that they touch the individual person to their innermost being. The speaker continues describing these intermingling notions of reality. The same individuals who believe people can see remote worlds in their dreams are those who equate “death” with “slumber” (Line 50), as there are many similarities between the two. Just as reality presents the mind with innumerable natural stimuli, “sleep” or “death” does the same, projecting “shapes the busy thoughts outnumber” (Line 51). These different “shapes” (Line 51) or sources of inspiration are what the “busy” (Line 51) mind is constantly trying to keep up with. However, this is impossible since these sources of inspiration are limitless and “outnumber” (Line 51) the thinking capabilities of all “who wake and live” (Line 51).
In the middle of Line 52, there is a dash, denoting a long pause. Here, readers can take a literal and figurative breath as the speaker appears confused at some new sight or new realization. Just as the speaker implements first-person pronouns in the second section, they likewise carry them over into the third section. Using the first-person pronoun “I,” the speaker relates their actions. They “look on high” (Line 52). Here, with this shift enacted through the dash, the speaker jolts out of their reverie and back to the natural landscape of Mont Blanc. They seem disoriented by this jolt, questioning whether “some unknown omnipotence unfurl’d / The veil of life and death” (Lines 53-54). This “unknown omnipotence” (Line 53) refers to some higher, godlike power, though the Christian God isn’t explicitly stated. Therefore, the speaker isn’t invoking any particular religion. While they are looking at the scenery surrounding the Arve and Mont Blanc, its beauty and sublimity make the speaker wonder whether they are actually seeing what’s before them, whether they are actually alive, or whether they are seeing something beyond the “veil” (Line 54) and in the otherworldly realm of “death” (Line 54). The speaker introduces a third option. If what they are looking at isn’t reality, and they aren’t dead, then perhaps what is before them is a “dream” (Line 55) and the “mightier world of sleep” (Line 55) has encircled them. The power of the vision before the speaker is so strong that if indeed it is sleep, then the effects of this slumber “spread far around” (Line 56) them. The effect of this sleep, if indeed it is sleep, is so deep that “Its circles” (Line 57) are “inaccessibly” (Line 56) attained. This seems slightly contradictory, however, as the dreamlike vision before the speaker is visible and therefore “accessible.” Yet, perhaps any deeper reflection or understanding of the vision itself remains unattainable. The ambiguity of the scene before the speaker, whether it is life, death, or dream, indicates its awesomeness and incomprehensible power. It is so great and wonderful that it is difficult to identify and remains undefinable.
The speaker gives the reason these different realities become conflated with one another in the following line. When looking upon Mont Blanc and its surroundings, “the very spirit fails” (Line 57). The grandeur and beauty of Mont Blanc is so great that the human spirit literally cannot stand it. Looking upon the mountain and the ravine, the human spirit moves “from steep to steep” (Line 58) just “like a homeless cloud” (Line 58). There is so much for the speaker to take in as they try to look at every peak, crag, and slope. The simile equating the spirit with a “homeless cloud” shows how out of place and adrift the speaker feels amid the magnificence surrounding them. The speaker cannot even keep up with this greatness and is physically unable to take in the entirety of the scene itself as the mountain’s great height “vanishes among the viewless gales” (Line 59). The power of the human spirit itself is insufficient against this natural beauty. Its weakness declares itself in its inability to fully scale Mont Blanc and take in everything it has to offer. The entirety of nature remains “viewless” (Line 59) and inaccessible to the speaker.
Up to this point, the poem devotes a good part of the second half of Section 2 and the first half of Section 3 to philosophical musings. The remaining lines of Section 3 begin to sound more like the first half of section two as the speaker once again reverts to describing the physical appearance of nature. The summit of Mont Blanc reaches into the “infinite sky” (Line 60). The usage of the descriptor “infinite” reiterates the endless and cyclical quality of nature. The speaker describes Mont Blanc as “still, snowy, and serene” (Line 61). These cold and stoic adjectives reinforce the removed, inaccessible nature of the landmark. The supremacy of Mont Blanc becomes more solidified as the speaker paints the picture of the “subject mountains” (Line 62) that “pile around it” (Line 63). “Subject” (Line 62) appears here in adjective form as opposed to noun form, denoting that these lower, smaller mountains are submissive and answerable to the higher and more powerful Mont Blanc. These mountains are also “unearthly” (Line 62), invoking the otherworldly, dreamy quality of the scenery with which the third section opens. The reference the speaker makes to “ice and rock” (Line 63) and the “broad vales between / Of frozen floods” (Lines 63-64 ) reiterates the impenetrability of Mont Blanc. While in the second section of the poem the speaker wonders at the supreme magnificence of the Arve and marvels at the interconnectedness of all things, the physical descriptions are much more accessible for the reader. In this third section, Mont Blanc acts as a fortress, keeping the speaker and any other onlookers away from total comprehension and understanding of its mysteries and those of the surrounding universe. The speaker cannot enter these “unfathomable deeps” (Line 64) to explore Mont Blanc any further than they already have. They have come as far as they can. Part of the reason the entirety of Mont Blanc is so unattainable to the speaker and any onlookers is because the “[b]lue” (Line 65) of the frozen waters and mountainsides blurs into the color of “the overhanging heaven” (Line 65) that cling to and climb up Mont Blanc’s “accumulated steeps” (Line 66). The misty clouds that obscure the top of Mont Blanc seem like an entryway to heaven to mere mortal eyes. The higher Mont Blanc gets, the more it turns into the realm of “heaven” that no human can enter. Individuals are physically blocked from seeing Mont Blanc’s heights by the clouds, and they are figuratively blocked from entering Mont Blanc’s heavenly kingdom.
The heights and magnificence of Mont Blanc is so unattainable that the upper echelons of the mountain are completely void of human life. Using metaphor to elaborate on their point, the speaker equates the heights of Mont Blanc to a “desert” (Line 67) that is “peopled by the storms alone” (Line 67). The use of the verb “peopled” carries some irony here, since human individuals cannot attain the mountain’s heights. The only inhabitant is the stormy, turbulent weather. Gone are the gentle winds in the trees of the Arve, and now there are just the forceful, thundering gusts. The only way any human or animal reaches these impassable regions of Mont Blanc is seemingly through death or mere necessity of survival. Examples the speaker includes are when an “eagle” (Line 68) flies to Mont Blanc’s peak with “some hunter’s bone” (Line 68) followed by a “wolf” (Line 69) that “tracks her there” (Line 69). The hunter only makes it to the mountain peak by becoming prey. The wolf’s tracking implies hunting, indicating the wolf is following the eagle there for survival and the hopes of attaining the same source of sustenance the eagle carries in her talons.
Only through the eyes and experiences of these uncommon visitors to Mont Blanc is the speaker capable of giving readers a glimpse of these unseen heights. While the lower portions of Mont Blanc feature the trees and other sustaining natural features that invoke beauty and wonder, the upper strata are “hideously” formed (Line 69). Without the water and wind and other stimuli present in Section 2, Mont Blanc’s peak is “rude, bare, and high” (Line 70) and composed of mere “shapes” (Line 70). The landscape has become empty and void, with only “ghastly, and scarr’d, and riven” sights (Line 71). “Riven” refers to something cracked or split. The rock and ice of Mont Blanc at this height is cut and cleft, but not to reveal any beauty like the Arve. Instead, these clefts exude nothingness and are baren. This different landscape, a stark juxtaposition to earlier descriptions, reminds the speaker of some primordial setting “Where the old Earthquake-daemon taught her young / [r]uin” (Lines 72 - 73). This reference to the “daemon” (Line 72) places Mont Blanc in some mythological age, such as in an origin or creation story. By questioning how this landscape came to be, the speaker tries to reason how Mont Blanc achieved its greatness. A “daemon” in Greek mythology is a supernatural creature identified as part-human and part-god. Even if these upper regions of Mont Blanc don’t have the same vivacity that the lower areas do, they are still as ethereal and mysterious and filled with possible supernatural and otherworldly influences. The speaker poses another possible creation story. If the “Earthquake-daemon” (Line 70) and her children did not create the rocky, deserted landscape of Mont Blanc’s summit, then perhaps “a sea / [o]f fire” (Lines 73 - 74) did at one point “envelop this silent snow” (Line 74). The juxtaposition between “fire” (74) and “snow” (Line 74) highlights the passage of time between what Mont Blanc was toward the beginning of creation and what it has become at the time the speaker muses about its existence. What once was malleable rock and lava is now frozen forever.
Since Mont Blanc is so ancient, possibly here since the beginning of time itself since everything in the universe is interconnected, no one can know for sure how it came to be or what the landscape first looked like. The speaker can only invoke myth and supernatural forces as possible answers. As the speaker claims, “None can reply” (Line 75). No one is around that knows the truth. Rather, knowing is impossible and these questions and beliefs are ceaselessly perpetuated. All is simply “eternal now” (Line 75), meaning the universe (and Mont Blanc along with it) will continue to move along and exist as it has been. It will continue to be a part of everyone and everything. The only beings or entities that do know the truth of Mont Blanc are those fixtures in nature that are a part of the landscape itself. However, in keeping with the overall theme of the poem, the speaker notes that “The wilderness has a mysterious tongue” (Line 76). Since the beginning of the poem, the speaker has pondered the interrelation of all beings and the truth about perception, without truly giving readers any answers or coming to any definitive conclusions. The truth for the speaker seems to be that there are no definitive answers. Nature will not reveal its secrets. Instead, nature’s reticence “teaches awful doubt” (Line 77) that contends with “faith so mild” (Line 77). While “doubt” (Line 77) implies disbelief, “faith” (Line 77) implies belief, particularly in something invisible or intangible. Humans can doubt what nature has to offer and teach to them (the grandeur, eternality, and interconnectedness of the earth), or they can listen to what nature attempts to tell them. This second option is that which the speaker advocates. Even with “mild” (Line 77) or meager faith, the “solemn” and “serene” (Line 78) quality inherent in this belief will help to make humans “with Nature reconcil’d” (Line 79) and draw them closer together. Only by listening closely to nature and giving over one’s self to the environment mentally, physically, and emotionally, can one truly learn what it has to teach.
The remaining lines of Section 3 once again place the poem within the apostrophe genre. The speaker addresses the “great Mountain” (Line 80) directly. They claim that the “voice” (Line 80) of Mont Blanc can recall “[l]arge codes of fraud and woe” (Line 81). While not a literal, audible “voice,” the speaker means the connection formed between the grandeur of Mont Blanc and the human mind through its sublimity. This magnificence provides an individual with inspiration, and this inspiration is what serves as Mont Blanc’s “voice” (Line 80) and means of communication. Only through this inspiration is the mountain capable of distilling the doubts and fears of individuals and making them recognize the interconnectedness of all things and the incomprehensibility of the whole universe in its magnitude. Yet, this is not always possible. Some individuals may not put forth the effort required to commune fully with Mont Blanc and understand its greatness. According to the speaker, only “the wise, and great, and good” (Line 82) come to see what Mont Blanc has to offer with an open mind and heart. It is significant to note that both are necessary to appreciate Mont Blanc, a point made earlier at the conclusion to Section 2. The mind can “Interpret” (Line 83) the thoughts Mont Blanc inspires, but the heart (the seat of passion and emotion), must “deeply feel” (Line 83) everything in the natural world. Both the mind and the heart are equally important and necessary tools.
IV
If readers look back at the first three sections of the poem and compare them to the opening of Section 4, they will notice a pattern. They will see how these first sections begin much more narrowly focused, honing in on a specific river (the Arve) and a specific mountain (Mont Blanc). Section 4 begins more broadly by describing nature in general. The speaker paints a broad picture of “fields,” “lakes,” “forests,” “streams” (Line 84) and the “ocean” (Line 85). These are generic, common nouns as opposed to proper nouns denoting particular locations. The speaker’s attention is shifting more toward “all the living things” (Line 85) that can be found in “the daedal earth” (Line 86). Something that is “daedal” is “skillful,” “ingenious,” or “cleverly intricate”. The word is an allusion to the Greek figure Daedalus, the “mythical Greek inventor, architect, and sculptor who was said to have built, among other things, the paradigmatic Labyrinth for King Minos of Crete” (“Daedalus.” Britannica, 23 May 2022.). Daedalus is also infamous for creating wings for him and his son to fly away from Crete, but when his son Icarus flew too close to the sun, his wings melted, and he drowned. Because of Daedalus’s craftsmanship, describing the earth as “daedal” (Line 86) points to its diverse and intricately detailed inner workings and interconnectedness. What follows after these opening lines of Section 4 is a series of lists. First the speaker lists different landforms (quoted above). Next, the speaker identifies various natural disasters or weather events, including “lightning, and rain, / Earthquake, and fiery flood, and hurricane” (Lines 86-87). Part of this list also includes “The torpor of the year” (Line 88) during which “feeble dreams / Visit the hidden buds” (Lines 88-89). “Torpor” is a state of inactivity, and the implications of ineffectiveness and weakness here possibly refer to a period of drought or famine. Farmers cannot produce what they need to, and only “dreamless sleep / [h]olds every future leaf and flower” (Lines 89-90). In other words, the possibility for production and fruitfulness lies latent. In the form of juxtaposition that readers have become so used to in this work, the famine and drought contrasts in the next line with “the bound / With which from that detested trance they leap” (Lines 90 - 91). The opposite of the famine previously described is a bountiful harvest, with every fruit, flower, and blossom maturing fully and providing sustenance to its growers.
The remaining items in the speaker’s list are singular rather than grouped (like the landforms and natural occurrences). The speaker identifies the “works and ways of man” (Line 92), including living and dying. They point to everything that is “of him and all that his may be” (Line 93). The masculine pronouns refer back to “man” (Line 92), and in this line the speaker alludes to everything that humankind produces or enacts. The last item in the speaker’s list is the broadest of all, referring generally to “All things that move and breathe with toil and sound” (Line 94). Living “with toil” implies living in a state of hard work or labor. Apart from referring to nature and living things, the items in this list may initially seem rather disjointed to readers. However, the speaker points out the connecting thread between all of them. Everything lives and dies. All things “revolve, subside, and swell” (Line 95). Just as everything is “born” (Line 95), everything will “die” (Line 95). The verb “revolve” (Line 95) specifically evokes this cyclical nature of life, the endless repetition of new life and the journey to death. To “subside” (Line 95) means to grow smaller or lower, while “swell” (Line 95) indicates growing and rising. The word order of Line 95 itself symbolizes the cycle of life as well, with the first half referencing birth then followed by death, and the second half beginning with a diminishing of life and ending with a resurgence.
While humans and other living things are stuck in this cycle, the separate “Power” (Line 96) of the universe and of eternity, the same power that courses through Mont Blanc and the Arve in all their glory, stands apart. It “dwells apart in its tranquility” (Line 96). This omnipotent force is calm and collected because it is untouched by the taint of death. It just continuously is. The description of this power matches that used to illustrate it in the previous sections of the poem. This universal entity is “[r]emote, serene, and inaccessible” (Line 97). Just as the speaker reiterates in the prior sections, the truth of nature and the mysteries of the universe will always be incomprehensible and distant, beyond the scope of human understanding. In the following line the speaker shifts their focus from the general to the specific, once more turning their sights on the scenes of Mont Blanc stretching before them. This reverses the focus the speaker employs at the beginning of the poem. They indicate, “And this” (Line 98). The italics add emphasis and help the reader to adjust to this new focus the speaker utilizes. If readers don’t quite catch this shift, the speaker more clearly references “the naked countenance of earth, / On which I gaze” (Lines 98 - 99). Readers already know the speaker gazes upon Mont Blanc and the Arve from their own actions in previous sections, so readers can keep up with the speaker’s changing focus. For the speaker, the significance of these particular “primeval mountains” (Line 99) that lie before them is their power to “Teach the adverting mind” (Line 100). This notion of nature “teaching” the human mind harkens back to the end of Section 3, when the wilderness in its reticence teaches either doubt or faith. Here in Section 4, Mont Blanc specifically (and the Ravine of Arve) possesses this instructional power. “Advert” means to draw attention, remark, or comment. Through its guidance, Mont Blanc and its universal power can hold the mind’s attention and lead individuals toward a sublime experience.
The speaker returns again to describing the physical attributes of the landscape before them. The mountain features “glaciers” (Line 100) that move “[l]ike snakes” (Line 101) away “from their far fountains” (Line 101). The simile connecting “glaciers” (Line 100) and “snakes” (Line 101) is especially helpful for readers, as it clarifies the deadly power of these natural bodies, especially ones whose movements are often imperceptible. Geographically, the glaciers of the Chamonix Valley are found to the north of Mont Blanc. The speaker is therefore extending their scope once more beyond Mont Blanc singularly to include more of the surrounding areas. These glaciers are built or “pil’d” (104) by “Frost and the Sun” (Line 103) on various “precipice[s]” (Line 102). These natural forces, capitalized and personified to indicate their individual agency and power, built the glaciers “in scorn of mortal power” (Line 103). To “scorn” something is to show contempt, dislike, or mockery for it. Personifying “Frost and the Sun” (Line 103) and giving these elements the ability to feel this emotion shows the insignificance of man. Nature has built up the most powerful and impenetrable barriers in the world, all without any consideration for or help from mankind. These glaciers form various structures, such as “dome, pyramid, and pinnacle” (Line 104), all of which make up a “city of death” (Line 105). That it is a city of “death” (Line 105) drives home the point that there is no human or animal here and heightens the landscape’s inaccessibility. This city is not a literal city populated by mankind since it remains a “wall impregnable of beaming ice” (Line 106). “Impregnable” indicates that this barrier cannot be overcome or penetrated. However, labeling the glaciers as a “city” that no one can enter serves as a metaphor depicting the otherworldly qualities of this landscape, just like the other realities the speaker previously describes in prior sections. The description helps to build the mystery of the glaciers’ powers.
The speaker attempts to detail what this landscape really looks like. Going back and contradicting their previous metaphor, the speaker changes their mind and claims that this field of glaciers is “not a city” (Line 107). The speaker’s indecisiveness portrays just how difficult this scenery is to describe, and how ambiguous and amorphous it can be, eluding complete human comprehension. Rather than a city, the glaciers represent “a flood of ruin” (Line 107). This description in particular parallels that in section three where the speaker details the uppermost portions of Mont Blanc with their barren wasteland. Across these glaciers, a “perpetual stream” (Line 109) flows “from the boundaries of the sky” (Line 108). These descriptions evoke the interconnectedness and cyclical nature of the universe, themes commented on before and prevalent throughout the whole poem. “Perpetual” (Line 109) implies that something is “eternal.” The waters of the glacier will never run out but will flow continuously. These waters from the glacier presumably feed into the Arve, which is connected to Mont Blanc, the wind, and the trees. The glacier, in turn, abuts the “sky” (Line 108), connecting the earthly sphere with the celestial sphere; everything is intertwined. Interrupting the flow of this glacial stream are “vast pines” (Line 109) that grow “in the mangled soil” (Line 110) and that look “[b]ranchless and shatter’d” (Line 111). Even though the trees lie in the “path” (Line 110) of the glaciers’ waters, their path remains “destin’d” (Line 110). Everything remains ordered in the universe and as it is intended to be.
Even though the creeping forward of the glaciers described by the speaker is nearly imperceptible, its effects are still widely felt. Thanks to these glaciers, “rocks” (Line 111) that come from the “remotest waste” (Line 112) of the glaciers’ voided plain have begun to break the boundaries between the “dead and living world” (Line 113). The encroaching glaciers begin to take over and eat up more and more of the lush, thriving natural world. The “waste” or void begins to consume its opposite. This conquered territory is “Never to be reclaim’d” (Line 114). Once taken over by the glaciers, this land is lost forever. It is all part of the cycle of life indicated above, with the living land subsiding into frost and ice. Life is suppressed by the glaciers, and “insects, beasts, and birds, becomes its spoil” (Line 115). These creatures’ homes and sustenance are devoured by the ice, and while it may initially seem that “[s]o much of life and joy is lost” (Line 117) due to this destruction, it is all part of the continuously shifting and developing energy in the universe.
As time goes on and the landscape changes, it encroaches on the living space of humans as well. Man “flies far in dread” (Line 117) away from nature and its overpowering force. Everything humankind holds near and dear, their “work and dwelling” (Line 117), will disappear eventually. The simile the speaker uses describes humankind being extinguished “like smoke before the tempest’s stream” (Line 119). The “stream” (Line 119) of the tempest, its rainfall, completely washes away any fires or smoke, just as eventually the hearths and homes of all humans will be overtaken by the glaciers. Just as water and rain easily combat fire, the simile used here shows how humans won’t be able to stand a chance against the forces of nature. When the glaciers take over, everything will look uniform, and the sites of human civilization will be “not known” (Line 120). Whatever mankind does, whether it is building towering cities or cultivating innumerable crops, will eventually become nullified by the forces of nature. The speaker details what the world will look like when the glaciers surrounding Mont Blanc eventually do take over. As in the previous details of the top of Mont Blanc and the glacial plains beyond the mountain, emptiness and bleakness will blanket the landscape. There will be “vast caves” (Line 120) and “rushing torrents” (Line 121) that meet in “one majestic River” (Line 123). The capitalization of “River,” since it is not referring to a specific river such as the Arve, points to the existence of some sort of uber River. Rather than numerous different tributaries feeding into one another and multiple rivers irrigating different countries, this overarching super River will exist as the “breath and blood of distant lands” (Line 119). Presumably, this means that the Arve will become part of this River as well and will cease to exist as a single body. This singular River will “for ever” (Line 124) add its noise to the ocean it eventually feeds into. Both the River and the ocean are connected, and the sounds of both flowing together in harmony will mingle together in the “circling air” (Line 126). The symbol of the circle refers to the repeating and churning system of life that this natural system constantly follows.
V
The speaker checks this forward projection of destruction in the final section of the poem. The poem has progressively shifted from specific to general, and now it moves back to the original focus. Despite the future ruin held in store by the glaciers, right now in this moment for the speaker, “Mont Blanc yet gleams on high” (Line 127). Many of the same traits and characteristics of the mountain expressed in the previous sections of the poem repeat here in this final portion. Mont Blanc contains the “power of many sights, / [a]nd many sounds, and much of life and death” (Lines 128-129). By this final section of the poem, Mont Blanc retains all of its omnipotence and sublimity, holding all of the contrasting elements and binaries (life versus death, etc.) together in a cohesive whole. Mont Blanc still also remains inaccessible and incomprehensible to those who look upon it, for even in the “calm darkness of the moonless nights” (Line 130) and the “lone glare of day” (Line 131) the snows fall high on the mountain peak where “none beholds them there” (Line 132). No one even sees these same snowflakes “burn in the sinking sun” (Line 133) nor “the star-beams dart” (Line 134) across the sky. These occurrences show the passage of time, from snow to snow melting, from sun to stars. Through it all, no one is there to witness these secret, hidden portions of the mountain. Mankind (and even animals) can only see and experience portions of Mont Blanc, not the whole thing in its entirety. The fact that the mountain continues to work and churn at its highest portions also reiterates how Mont Blanc and its surroundings is an entity in and of itself. It is not there simply for human enjoyment but is a force with its own drives and systems.
The speaker continues building this final description of Mont Blanc, once more pointing out the wind that blows among its crags. These winds are “Rapid and strong” (Line 136), but the most important trait for the speaker seems to be how “silently” (Lines 135, 136) they blow, as they repeat this adverb twice on two different lines. The contrast between the power of the winds and how inaudible they are across the great distance to where the speaker observes them is confounding and staggering. It seems incomprehensible how something so strong can simultaneously be so mute. Another contrast comes when the speaker identifies the “voiceless lightning” (Line 137) as living “innocently” (Line 138) and “like vapor” (Line 138). Instead of hearing the lightning crack and snap, from this distance the speaker hears nothing when the lighting strikes the mountaintop. It is as harmless as “vapor” (Line 138), a simile that helps to make the visual even more effective for readers. By saying the lightning strikes “innocently” (Line 138), the speaker means that it is too far from them to cause any sort of harm.
In the final lines of the poem, the speaker once more connects these natural wonders surrounding them to the source of human thought and the workings of the human mind. Mont Blanc contains “the secret strength of things” (Line 139) that “governs thought” (Line 140). To “govern” means to rule over and to dictate how something is done. The universal power, the “secret strength” (Line 139), that lies within Mont Blanc is what likewise connects to all humankind. It is what guides inspiration and imagination and directly influences these mental abilities in the human mind. This same universal power also serves “as a law” (Line 141) to “heaven” (Line 141). In these concluding lines, the speaker repeats the theme of interconnection to drive home this point further for readers. Just as the universal life force connects to mankind, so it pervades throughout all of nature and the existence of all things. The poem ends with a hypothetical question from the speaker. They question what nature would offer “to the human mind’s imaginings” (Line 143) if everything that was “[s]ilence and solitude” (Line 144) were simply deemed “vacancy” (Line 144). As the speaker has proven throughout the poem, even the natural sights that are silent, invisible, unattainable, or inaudible, carry with them a sublime quality capable of inspiring the human mind. If individuals looked at these natural sights and simply saw “nothing,” then they would miss out on this sublimity. By not delving any further, they would not comprehend the interconnection of all things. This final hypothetical question makes readers question their own actions and if they are properly perceiving nature and all it has to offer.



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