AT VESPERS

Glory. Both now.

Lord, I have cried **we insert 6 stichera and we sing 3 stichera of the Feast.**

Tone 2. With what garlands of praise.

With what lips shall we, poor and worthless, call the Mother of God blest? She is more honoured than creation and holier than the Cherubim and all the Angels; she is the unshaken throne of the King, the house in which the Most High made his dwelling; the salvation of the world; the hallowing of God, who on her godly feast richly grants the faithful his great mercy.

What songs of awe did all the Apostles of the Word offer you then, O Virgin, as they stood around your death-bed and cried aloud with wonder: The Palace of the King departs, the Ark of hallowing is exalted. You gates be lifted up, that the gate of Gate may enter in great joy, as she unceasingly asks for the world his great mercy.

What spiritual songs may we now offer you, all-holy? For by your immortal Falling Asleep you have hallowed the whole world, and have passed over to things beyond the world to perceive the beauty of the Almighty and, as his Mother, to rejoice in it exceedingly. Ranks of Angels escort you, pure Virgin, and the souls of the just; with them ask for us peace and his great mercy.

And three of the Holy Icon. Tone 2. Same melody.

With what eyes shall we who are born of earth look upon your image, which the armies of the Angels cannot look at without fear as it blazes with divine light? For it departs to-day from the land of unbelievers and by divine decree comes to dwell in the Queen of cities and among a people of true religion. At its entry Kings rejoice, O Christ, falling down before it with fear and faith.

With what hands shall we creatures of dust touch your Image, O Word? We who are stained by faults touch you, our sinless God? We who live in filth touch you the unapproachable? The Cherubim tremble and hide their gaze; the Seraphim cannot bear to see your glory; creation serves you with fear. Do not then condemn us, O Christ, who unworthily greet from faith your dread appearance.

Once again the godlike day of the Master’s festival is here; for he who is seated in the highest has now clearly visited us through his honoured Image; he who is unseen by the Cherubim above appears through painting to those to whom he has become like, formed ineffably by the immaculate finger of the Father according to his likeness. As we worship it with faith and love we are sanctified.

Come, let us feast the universal Dormition of the all-blameless Mother of God; for to-day Angels celebrate the honoured Translation of God’s Mother, and invite us who are born of earth to a festival to cry with never-silent voice: Hail, who passed over from earth and took up your abode in heavenly dwellings. Hail, who gathered the choir of the Disciples together by a light cloud. Hail, our hope and protection; for we, the race of Christians, ceaselessly call you blest.