Ode 6. The Irmos.

Of the Angels. The same Irmos.

I entered the depths of the sea, and a storm of many sins drowned me; but as God lead my life back from corruption, as you love mankind.

As I am a corpse, I do not understand, wretch that I am, without feeling and ever bearing a sullied conscience. O God, who fashioned me, do not finally destroy me.

My deeds, O Compassionate One, are going to accuse me like public executioners; swiftly deliver me from them, O Christ, by guiding me to repentance.

Of the Martyrs.

A lawless people crushed the bones of the Champions, but did not break their faith, through which they appeared as heirs of God, the Saviour of our souls.

Like precious stones the Champions were built on a rock of unbreakable hope, and like Temples of the Holy Spirit they dwelt in the temple of God.

O Bride of God, shine on my heart, blackened by the dark inroads of sin with the enlightenment which is in you, who bore the Sun.

Angelic hosts, who stand around the Master and enjoy undimmed the radiance of the source of light, make bright those who sing your praise with faith.

By your wisdom you created the Angelic choirs, Dominations, Powers and as Master you revealed the Seraphim who eternally honour you.

As the One who takes his rest upon uplifted Thrones, O Christ, and with divine providence observes the universe, you took your rest, Master, in the arms of the Virgin.