A poem:
written by Archpriest Grigory Petrov (Gregory Petrov)
shortly before his death in a Siberian prison camp.

What is my praise before Thee?

I have not heard the cherubim singing,
    that is the lot of souls sublime,
    but I know how nature praises thee.

In winter I have thought about the whole earth praying quietly to Thee in the
    silence of the moon,
    wrapped around in a mantle of white,
    sparkling with diamonds of snow.

I have seen how the rising sun rejoiced in Thee,
    and choirs of birds sang forth glory.

I have heard how secretly the forest noises Thee abroad,
    how the winds sing,
    the waters gurgle,
    how the choirs of stars preach of Thee
    in serried motion through unending space.

Taken from:http://members.nbci.com/dholwick/mac/mac-il-2.txt SOURCE: The Puzzle Of The Soviet Church AUTHOR: Kent R. Hill