The Stundist in Siberian Exile AND OTHER POEMS, William Fetler, 1922

They pray for native villages, For provinces in need. They ask that places where, before. They stole and robbed and killed, With messages of peace and joy Henceforward should be filled. 2 18 THE STUNDIST IN SIBERIAN EXILE And in their hearts they hope to see The bright and happy day. When Russia is evangelized And Christ alone holds sway ! On Board ss. Aquitania from New York to Southampton, July 1921. OTHER POEMS PROLOGUE “GOD” An Ode by GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN 0 Thou Eternal One, whose presence bright All space doth occupy, all motion guide ! Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight, Thou only God ! There is no God beside ! Being above all things ! Three in One ! Whom none can comprehend and none explore; Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone— Embracing all—supporting—ruling o’er ! Being whom we call God—and know not more ! In its sublimest search, philosophy May measure out the ocean-deep—may count The sands 'neath the sun’s rays—but, O God I for Thee There is no weight, no measure ; none can mount Up to Thy mysteries ; Reason’s brightest spark, Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark ; And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high. Even like past moments in eternity 1 Thou from primeval nothingness didst call First chaos, then existence; Lord, on Thee Eternity had its foundation ; all Sprang from Thee I of light, joy, harmony, 21 22 " GOD ” Sole origin ! all life, all beauty Thine ! Thy word created all, and doth create ; Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine ! Thou art, and wert, and shalt be ! Glorious, great, Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate! Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround. Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath ! Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, All beautifully mingled Life and Death ! As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze, So suns are bom, so worlds spring forth from Thee ; And as the spangles in the sunny rays Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise! A million torches lighted by Thy hand Wander unwearied through the blue abyss !— They own Thy power, accomplish Thy com¬ mand ; All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss ! What shall we call them ? Orbs of crystal light ?— A glorious company of golden streams ?— Lamps of celestial ether burning bright ?— Suns, lighting systems with their joyous beams ?— Yet Thou to these are as the moon to night! . .. Yea ! as a drop of water in the sea. All this magnificence in Thee is lost. " GOD ” 23 What are ten thousand worlds compared with Thee? And what, O Lord, am I ? Heaven’s unnumbered host, Though multiplied by myriads, and array’d In all the glory of sublimest thought, Is but an atom in the balance weighed Against Thy greatness ; is a cypher brought Against infinity! What then am