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SIN. by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Percy Bysshe Shelley

This poem satirizes "Peter," a representation of the poet Robert Southey, whom Shelley held in disdain.

The poem
1. Lo. Peter in Hell’s Grosvenor Square, A footman in the Devil’s service! And the misjudging world would swear _265 That every man in service there To virtue would prefer vice. 2. But Peter, though now damned, was not What Peter was before damnation. Men oftentimes prepare a lot _270 Which ere it finds them, is not what Suits with their genuine station. 3. All things that Peter saw and felt Had a peculiar aspect to him; And when they came within the belt _275 Of his own nature, seemed to melt, Like cloud to cloud, into him. 4. And so the outward world uniting To that within him, he became Considerably uninviting _280 To those who, meditation slighting, Were moulded in a different frame. 5. And he scorned them, and they scorned him; And he scorned all they did; and they Did all that men of their own trim _285 Are wont to do to please their whim, Drinking, lying, swearing, play. 6. Such were his fellow-servants; thus His virtue, like our own, was built Too much on that indignant fuss _290 Hypocrite Pride stirs up in us To bully one another’s guilt. 7. He had a mind which was somehow At once circumference and centre Of all he might or feel or know; _295 Nothing went ever out, although Something did ever enter. 8. He had as much imagination As a pint-pot;—he never could Fancy another situation, _300 From which to dart his contemplation, Than that wherein he stood. 9. Yet his was individual mind, And new created all he saw In a new manner, and refined _305 Those new creations, and combined Them, by a master-spirit’s law. 10. Thus—though unimaginative— An apprehension clear, intense, Of his mind’s work, had made alive _310 The things it wrought on; I believe Wakening a sort of thought in sense. 11. But from the first ’twas Peter’s drift To be a kind of moral eunuch, He touched the hem of Nature’s shift, _315 Felt faint—and never dared uplift The closest, all-concealing tunic. 12. She laughed the while, with an arch smile, And kissed him with a sister’s kiss, And said—My best Diogenes, _320 I love you well—but, if you please, Tempt not again my deepest bliss. 13. ‘’Tis you are cold—for I, not coy, Yield love for love, frank, warm, and true; And Burns, a Scottish peasant boy— _325 His errors prove it—knew my joy More, learned friend, than you. 14. ‘Boeca bacciata non perde ventura, Anzi rinnuova come fa la luna:— So thought Boccaccio, whose sweet words might cure a _330 Male prude, like you, from what you now endure, a Low-tide in soul, like a stagnant laguna. 15. Then Peter rubbed his eyes severe. And smoothed his spacious forehead down With his broad palm;—’twixt love and fear, _335 He looked, as he no doubt felt, queer, And in his dream sate down. 16. The Devil was no uncommon creature; A leaden-witted thief—just huddled Out of the dross and scum of nature; _340 A toad-like lump of limb and feature, With mind, and heart, and fancy muddled. 17. He was that heavy, dull, cold thing, The spirit of evil well may be: A drone too base to have a sting; _345 Who gluts, and grimes his lazy wing, And calls lust, luxury. 18. Now he was quite the kind of wight Round whom collect, at a fixed aera, Venison, turtle, hock, and claret,— _350 Good cheer—and those who come to share it— And best East Indian madeira! 19. It was his fancy to invite Men of science, wit, and learning, Who came to lend each other light; _355 He proudly thought that his gold’s might Had set those spirits burning. 20. And men of learning, science, wit, Considered him as you and I Think of some rotten tree, and sit _360 Lounging and dining under it, Exposed to the wide sky. 21. And all the while with loose fat smile, The willing wretch sat winking there, Believing ’twas his power that made _365 That jovial scene—and that all paid Homage to his unnoticed chair. 22. Though to be sure this place was Hell; He was the Devil—and all they— What though the claret circled well, _370 And wit, like ocean, rose and fell?— Were damned eternally.

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This poem satirizes "Peter," a representation of the poet Robert Southey, whom Shelley held in disdain. In the end, Peter finds himself as a footman in Hell, catering to a dull and gluttonous Devil. Shelley employs this character to ridicule a specific type of individual: one who believes they are morally superior yet is actually cold, unimaginative, and too timid to fully engage with life or nature. Overall, it serves as a darkly comedic critique of hypocrisy, intellectual arrogance, and the pride that confuses prudishness with virtue.
Themes

Line-by-line

Lo. Peter in Hell's Grosvenor Square, / A footman in the Devil's service!
Shelley plunges us into Hell, cleverly presenting it as a trendy London locale — Grosvenor Square, home to the city's affluent elite. In this setting, Peter isn't a lord; he's a servant. The humor hits hard: this man who once saw himself as significant now finds himself as a footman in the Devil's domain.
But Peter, though now damned, was not / What Peter was before damnation.
Shelley takes a moment to acknowledge that Peter wasn't always like this. Sometimes, people find themselves in situations that clash with their true selves. This stanza introduces the notion that Peter's downfall is, in part, due to his circumstances — he was influenced by an unfavorable environment.
All things that Peter saw and felt / Had a peculiar aspect to him;
Peter has a unique inner world. Everything he experiences gets absorbed into his nature, merging with it like clouds coming together. This might sound like a compliment — and it partly is — but Shelley is also hinting at the issue: Peter internalizes everything, but nothing ever comes back out.
And so the outward world uniting / To that within him, he became
Because Peter takes everything in without sharing anything in return, he becomes unappealing to everyday people—those who don’t engage in self-reflection and simply follow the crowd. While the world and Peter have merged, it leads to his social isolation.
And he scorned them, and they scorned him;
A society of mutual contempt. Peter scorns the drinking, lying, swearing crowd surrounding him, and they return the disdain. Shelley points out that neither side is coming out on top.
Such were his fellow-servants; thus / His virtue, like our own, was built
Here Shelley turns the knife. Peter's virtue isn't genuine goodness — it's just "Hypocrite Pride," the self-righteous indignation that allows people to feel superior to others. Shelley brings himself and the reader into this ("like our own"), making it a sharp and honest move.
He had a mind which was somehow / At once circumference and centre
Peter's mind is portrayed as both the boundary and the heart of all his experiences — a closed system. Nothing escapes, although things can come in. It's a striking metaphor for a specific type of thinker: someone who absorbs ideas but never creates or transforms them into something that impacts the outside world.
He had as much imagination / As a pint-pot;
One of Shelley's most striking lines. Peter can only view the world from his own vantage point—he lacks the ability to envision things from another's perspective. A pint-pot holds exactly one pint and nothing beyond that. The comparison is both straightforward and humorous.
Yet his was individual mind, / And new created all he saw
Shelley adds depth to the discussion. Even without traditional imagination, Peter possesses an intense and original way of seeing things — he interprets his observations in a personal way, refines them, and mixes them together. This is a genuine intellectual talent, and Shelley recognizes it sincerely.
Thus—though unimaginative— / An apprehension clear, intense,
Peter's clarity of mind is genuine. He perceives and processes information with accuracy. However, Shelley describes this as a form of thought that awakens the senses instead of the soul—it's analytical intelligence, lacking the warmth and depth of true imagination.
But from the first 'twas Peter's drift / To be a kind of moral eunuch,
The main accusation. Peter reaches for Nature — representing life, passion, and the entire sensory and emotional experience — yet hesitates at the final moment. He brushes the hem of her dress but quickly withdraws. "Moral eunuch" captures Shelley at his harshest: Peter has severed his own ability to fully engage in authentic experiences.
She laughed the while, with an arch smile, / And kissed him with a sister's kiss,
Nature responds to Peter's timidity with a playful fondness — more like a sister's kiss than a lover's. She cares for him but sees through his hesitance. She points out that he's cold and reminds him that she offers love freely to those who embrace her wholeheartedly.
'Tis you are cold—for I, not coy, / Yield love for love, frank, warm, and true;
Nature's speech goes on, revealing everything. She references Robert Burns — a "Scottish peasant boy" who made his share of mistakes but lived life passionately — as someone who understood her joy much more than the careful, scholarly Peter ever could. The difference between Burns's vibrant spirit and Peter's detached intellect lies at the core of Shelley's argument.
'Boeca bacciata non perde ventura, / Anzi rinnuova come fa la luna:
Nature quotes Boccaccio in Italian: "A kissed mouth loses no savour, but renews itself like the moon." This suggests that love and physical experiences don’t take away from you; instead, they refresh you. Shelley uses this quote to pinpoint Peter's issue as a "low-tide in soul," indicating a stagnation brought on by his unwillingness to connect.
Then Peter rubbed his eyes severe. / And smoothed his spacious forehead down
Peter stirs from a dream, feeling a mix of confusion, love, and fear, and simply sits back down. The way he smooths his forehead brings a sense of relief; it's his way of grappling with a vision of Nature herself, even if it leaves him a bit uneasy.
The Devil was no uncommon creature; / A leaden-witted thief—just huddled
Now Shelley turns to the Devil, Peter's employer, and the portrait is intentionally underwhelming. This Devil isn't grand or terrifying — he's dull, heavy, toad-like, and muddled in thought. Shelley implies that evil isn't glamorous; it’s simply stupidity and greed wrapped in an awkward form.
He was that heavy, dull, cold thing, / The spirit of evil well may be:
The Devil is too lazy to even bother with stinging. He lounges around, refers to lust as "luxury," and confuses self-indulgence with sophistication. This reflects Shelley's view of evil as something mundane — not grand moral failings but rather slow, self-satisfied vice.
Now he was quite the kind of wight / Round whom collect, at a fixed aera,
The Devil throws extravagant dinner parties featuring venison, turtle, fine wines, and East Indian madeira. He embodies the archetype of a wealthy, influential patron, drawing in brilliant minds and reveling in their brilliance.
It was his fancy to invite / Men of science, wit, and learning,
The Devil believes his gold sparks the brilliance of his guests and takes pride in his salon. Yet the irony is clear: he mistakes being close to intelligence for actually having it.
And men of learning, science, wit, / Considered him as you and I
The knowledgeable guests perceive the Devil for what he truly is: a decayed tree that they gather beneath for shade and convenience, rather than out of reverence. They exploit him. He remains oblivious. The metaphor of the decayed tree is spot on—providing shelter, yet lifeless at its heart.
And all the while with loose fat smile, / The willing wretch sat winking there,
The Devil grins and winks, believing that this entire brilliant scene is all his doing. The "unnoticed chair" detail is spot-on—his seat of power goes unacknowledged by everyone else. He thinks he's the one hosting a grand gathering, but in reality, he's just another piece of furniture.
Though to be sure this place was Hell; / He was the Devil—and all they—
Shelley pulls back to remind us of the frame: this is Hell. The claret flows, and the wit ebbs and flows like the ocean, but everyone at the table — the Devil, Peter, the brilliant guests — is stuck in eternal damnation. The final note strikes a balance between bleakness and humor: no amount of fine wine or clever banter can alter the core reality.

Tone & mood

The tone is both sardonic and playful, yet there's a real bite beneath the surface. Shelley is clearly having fun with the comic rhymes, the Grosvenor Square backdrop, and the pint-pot comparison. However, the target is sincere, and the contempt is palpable. There's also a thread of intellectual honesty that prevents it from being a straightforward attack: Shelley acknowledges Peter's genuine talents and includes himself in the critique of hypocritical pride. The final stanza hits hard, cutting through all the cleverness with a chilling conclusion.

Symbols & metaphors

  • Grosvenor SquareA genuine, stylish London address dropped into Hell. It suggests that Hell isn't just an exotic underworld but rather a reflection of the respectable, affluent English society — implying that the two aren't all that different.
  • The pint-potA container that holds just one fixed measure and nothing beyond that. It represents Peter's lack of imaginative empathy—his struggle to step outside his own perspective and view the world through someone else's eyes.
  • Nature's shift and tunicNature's clothing reflects the rich complexity of human experience—sensory, emotional, erotic, spiritual. Peter only touches the hem and never dares to lift the veil. The image reveals his deep-seated shyness in the face of real life.
  • The rotten treeThe Devil is like a dead tree that still offers shade. This imagery reflects the dynamic between corrupt power and the skilled individuals who exploit it for their own benefit, all while secretly harboring disdain for it.
  • The sister's kissNature's kiss for Peter is warm and caring but clearly non-erotic. It defines the boundary of what Peter can experience from the world — warmth without depth, connection without change.
  • The stagnant lagunaBoccaccio's image, cited by Nature, reflects Peter's inner state: a low tide, still water, and no movement. This symbolizes the spiritual and creative stagnation that comes from not fully engaging with one's experiences.

Historical context

This poem is a canto taken from Shelley's longer satirical piece *Peter Bell the Third* (1819), which he crafted as a biting reaction to William Wordsworth's poem *Peter Bell* and serves as a parody. Shelley was infuriated by what he perceived as Wordsworth's moral and political retreat — in his eyes, the once-great Romantic poet had abandoned his early radical ideals and transformed into a conservative figure within the establishment. The "Peter" depicted in the poem mainly represents Wordsworth, but also reflects Robert Southey, another Lake Poet who had turned away from his youthful radicalism. Shelley penned this poem in a frenzy in 1819, the same year he created *The Mask of Anarchy* and *Ode to the West Wind*, a time marked by remarkable productivity fueled by political anger. *Peter Bell the Third* was not released during Shelley's lifetime; it was published posthumously in 1839.

FAQ

Peter serves mainly as a satirical depiction of William Wordsworth, incorporating traits of Robert Southey as well. Shelley composed the poem as a reaction to Wordsworth's *Peter Bell* (1819), using the character to criticize what he perceived as Wordsworth's intellectual cowardice, moral hypocrisy, and political abandonment of his previous radical beliefs.

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