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(John Greenleaf Whittier & Lorne Entress) So fallen, so lost, the light withdrawn Which once he wore The glory from his gray hair gone Forevermore Revile him not, the Tempter hath A snare for all And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath Befit his fall Oh dumb be passion's stormy rage When he who might Have lighted up and led his age Falls back in night a