Of worldly vanities), here I beheld,

Weary of angry thoughts and executions,

The tsar; among us, meditative, quiet

Here sat the Terrible; we motionless

Stood in his presence, while he talked with us

In tranquil tones. Thus spake he to the abbot

And all the brothers: "My fathers, soon will come

The longed-for day; here shall I stand before you,

Hungering for salvation; Nicodemus,

Thou Sergius, Cyril thou, will all accept

My spiritual vow; to you I soon shall come

Accurst in sin, here the clean habit take,

Prostrate, most holy father, at thy feet."

So spake the sovereign lord, and from his lips

Sweetly the accents flowed. He wept; and we

With tears prayed God to send His love and peace

Upon his suffering and stormy soul. -

What of his son Feodor? On the throne

He sighed to lead the life of calm devotion.

The royal chambers to a cell of prayer

He turned, wherein the heavy cares of state

Vexed not his holy soul. God grew to love

The tsar's humility; in his good days

Russia was blest with glory undisturbed,

And in the hour of his decease was wrought

A miracle unheard of; at his bedside,

Seen by the tsar alone, appeared a being

Exceeding bright, with whom Feodor 'gan

To commune, calling him great Patriarch; -

And all around him were possessed with fear,

Musing upon the vision sent from Heaven,

Since at that time the Patriarch was not present

In church before the tsar. And when he died

The palace was with holy fragrance filled.