Great poetry of William Wordsworth
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Isle of Man by William Wordsworth

A youth too certain of his power to wade

On the smooth bottom of this clear bright sea,

To sight so shallow, with a bather’s glee

Leapt from this rock, and but for timely aid

He, by the alluring element betrayed,

Had perished. Then might Sea-nymphs (and with sighs

Of self-reproach) have chanted elegies

Bewailing his sad fate, when he was laid

In peaceful earth: for, doubtless, he was frank,

Utterly in himself devoid of guile;

Knew not the double-dealing of a smile;

Nor aught that makes men’s promises a blank,

Or deadly snare: and He survives to bless

The Power that saved him in his strange distress.

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