Ode 7. Irmos. When the golden image.

Once the mouths of lions had no strength against Daniel’s flesh; and nor did death against the Martyrs; in your hand, Lord Christ, the souls of the righteous live as they rejoice and sing: Blessed are you, the God of our fathers.

The flame once bedewed the three youths in Babylon, while for the Champions the furnace of many gods died away; therefore seeing its deception reduced to ashes they cried out: Blessed are you, the God of our fathers.

Enraptured by love of you, O Christ, your Champions, as though clothed in a cloak of flesh that felt no pain, despised agonising torments and taking their delight in you they said: Blessed are you, the God of our fathers.

Like professionals your Champions, though tortured, triumphed for your confession, and with your grace inspired by God they confessed one nature in three persons and cried: Blessed are you, the God of our fathers.