I

Andre Chenier died by the guillotine.
But I'm alive—and that's a fearful sin.
All men meet times as hard as iron, as grim.
And no true bard sings on the battle-scene.

And no true father, at the gates, is seen
To strip his son arrayed in battle-trim.
There are times when the sun—is mortal sin.
And no true man—in our day—lives serene.

4 April 1918