On through that sharp and bitter air, in thought
My duke observing, who still said: ‘Beware
Lest thou be separate from me!’ Anon
Voices I heard, and each voice seemed in prayer
For peace and pity to the Holy One
Of God, the Lamb who taketh sins away;
Still from them all one word, one measure streamed,
Still Agnus Dei prelude of their lay,
So that among them perfect concord seemed.
‘Those, then, are spirits, Master, that I hear?’