Read it through once

The monks go by on pilgrimage, And the bishop rides his mule. They do not look to the right or the left; They raise their eyes toward the sky. They fast, and rise before day; They pray, and give alms, and keep silence. They are the guardians of the immortal secret. They have the keys of heaven; they have the keys of death. They are in the presence of the Pope; they are in the presence of the Lord.