Ode 5. Irmos. Rising at dawn.

Alone you turned to flight the rage of the serpent, God-bearing Father; while you turned all your desire towards your Master.

Prudently you governed your body’s senses, and were declared a monument of the virtues, All-blest Father.

Revered Saint, you bore the heat of the day and were found worthy of the joy of the Lord.

Mary, Mother of God, without bridegroom, bring to naught the hopes of our foes, and make those who praise you glad.