AT VESPERS

**At** Lord, I have cried**, we sing Prosomia.**

Glory. Both now.

**Theotokion.**

Tone 4. As noble among Martyrs.

Or Cross-Theotokion.

You put on the purple garment of your flesh, made scarlet with blood by divine grace, glorious, all wise Martyr, and, having bound your head with a diadem of incorruption and life, holding in your right hand the trophy of the Cross like a sceptre, you reign with Christ rejoicing for ever.

You have become known, revered Martyr, as an invincible warrior, for having armoured yourself with the weapon of the Cross you went out to single combat with the hostile champion and utterly defeated him, triumphing brilliantly and receiving the crown of victory from the only judge and Master of the contest, who reigns as king for ever.

By your honoured sufferings, glorious, invincible Athlete, you were an image of the honoured suffering of Christ, and becoming a victor you dwell with all the saints in the city on high, glad champion, and by participation in God are made divine; and so we celebrate your honoured and holy festival.

As I sail by sea, travel by road, sleep by night, watch over me; give me the grace of a watchful mind, All-blameless, and grant that I may do the Lord’s will; that on the day of sentence I may find release from all that I have done in life, I who flee to your protection.

When the Ewe-lamb, your Mother, saw you nailed to the Cross, Lord, she was struck with amazement, and cried out: What is this sight, my Son so greatly loved? Is this how the disobedient, lawless people repays your many wonders? But glory, Master, to your ineffable condescension!