Awful as silence. Hark! the rushing snow!
The sun-awakened avalanche! whose mass,
Thrice sifted by the storm, had gathered there
Flake after flake, in heaven-defying minds
As thought by thought is piled, till some great truth
Is loosened, and the nations echo round,
Shaken to their roots, as do the mountains now.

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Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) English poet
Prometheus Unbound, Act 2 (1820)
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Added on 9-May-22 | Last updated 9-May-22
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