THE SAD YEARS
THE QUESTION (Continued)
“Spare, spare my child!” or screams my bullet, saying,
“Stay, stay thy flight! My father thou art slaying.”
All summer through I heard from each pale sleeper,
“Thou shalt not kill.” “Am I my brother's keeper?”
I fain replied. And now comes dread December,
With “Peace on Earth.” O God! dare I remember?
“To men goodwill.” Am I Thy laws fulfilling
Who run red-handed—killing, killing, killing?
[26]
