When these in all their bravery took the knock

And like obedient children swaddled and bound

Were borne to sleep within the chambered rock,

A splendour broke from that impervious ground,

Which they would never know. Whence came that greatness?

No fiery chariot whirled them heavenwards, they

Saw no Elysium opening, but the strartness

Of full submission bound then where they lay.

What could that greatness be? It was not fame.

Yet now they seemed to grow as they grew less,

And where they lay were more than where they had stood.

They did not go to any beatitude.

They were stripped clean of feature, presence, name,

When that strange glory broke from namelessness.