In those vast airy battlements whence came
The spirits who had done with time and fame
And all the playthings of earth’s little hour;
I saw them each, I knew them for the same,
Mothers and brothers and the sons of power.
Yet were they changed; the flaming walls had burned
Their perishable selves, and there remained
Only the pure white vision of the soul,
The mortal part consumed, and swift returned
Ashes to ashes; while unscathed, unstained,