<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420528" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ichabod</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn<br>Which once he wore!<br>The glory from his gray hairs gone<br>Forevermore!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Revile him not, the Tempter hath<br>A snare for all;<br>And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath,<br>Befit his fall!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, dumb be passion's stormy rage,<br>When he who might<br>Have lighted up and led his age,<br>Falls back in night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Scorn! would the angels laugh, to mark<br>A bright soul driven,<br>Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark,<br>From hope and heaven!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let not the land once proud of him<br>Insult him now,<br>Nor brand with deeper shame his dim,<br>Dishonored brow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But let its humbled sons, instead,<br>From sea to lake,<br>A long lament, as for the dead,<br>In sadness make.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of all we loved and honored, naught<br>Save power remains;<br>A fallen angel's pride of thought,<br>Still strong in chains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All else is gone; from those great eyes<br>The soul has fled:<br>When faith is lost, when honor dies,<br>The man is dead!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, pay the reverence of old days<br>To his dead fame;<br>Walk backward, with averted gaze,<br>And hide the shame!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420528" data-title="Ichabod de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn Which once he wore! The glory from his gray hairs 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 ra..."></div> </div> </div>

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