I love the church-its hexapteriga,
the silver of its sacred vessels, its candlesticks,
the lights, its icons, its pulpit.
When I enter a church of the Greeks,
with its fresh incense,
with its voices and liturgical choirs,
the stately presense of the priests
and the solemn rhythm of each of their movements-
most resplendent in the adornment of their vestments
my mind goes to the high honors of our race,
to the glory of our Byzantine tradition.