Ode 4. Irmos. I have heard, Lord.

Perfecting your lambs by your word, blessed Saint, you put to death the packs of the wolves with your body, while you placed your spirit in the hands of God.

Your sacrifice was sweet-smelling, all-pure and acceptable to the Redeemer; you both offered it with a mind inspired and were offered by lawless hands.

Anointed once, blest Saint, with priestly anointing, you were perfected too a second time by your martyr’s blood.

Mother of God, field untilled, who blossomed with the life-giving ear, which grants life to the world, save those who sing your praise.